


A Year of Firsts

by ninwrites, notcrypticbutcoy



Series: A Force This Powerful [1]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Shadowhunters (TV), The Mortal Instruments Series - Cassandra Clare, The Shadowhunter Chronicles - All Media Types, The Shadowhunter Chronicles - Cassandra Clare
Genre: (but there will be later), Alternate Universe - Hogwarts, Alternate Universe - Human, Attempt at Humor, Crossovers & Fandom Fusions, Enemies to Friends, Fluff and Angst, Friendship, Gen, Hogwarts Express, Hogwarts First Year, Light Angst, No Romance, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Platonic Relationships, Quidditch, Simon loves everyone, and wants to be friends with everyone, except sebastian, much love to all houses
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-04
Updated: 2017-06-06
Packaged: 2018-09-14 16:35:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 12
Words: 66,593
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9193670
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ninwrites/pseuds/ninwrites, https://archiveofourown.org/users/notcrypticbutcoy/pseuds/notcrypticbutcoy
Summary: Alec's first year at Hogwarts isn't off to a great start, sorted into a house his parents despise and separated from his best friend. Magnus' newfound exposure to magic is as thrilling as it is hard to manage, and it seems he's already managed to make an enemy of his too-blonde housemate.If it weren't for their clashing personalities, they'd probably get along great.





	1. Welcome To Hogwarts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Magnus is new to the Wizarding World and Alec just wants to be in Gryffindor

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welcome to the fabulous collaboration brought to you by your friendly neighbourhood fangirls! Chapters will be alternated between authors and posted every few weeks.
> 
> this chapter by: Malteser24 (A Slytherin in name and Ravenclaw at heart)

It's a brick wall.

A _brick wall_. The entrance to the train, that will then take him to _the_ Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry is a plain, average, normal, brick wall. That he is, apparently, supposed to just run into, as though it is the most casual, average thing in the world.

For those who grew up with magic, it probably is. A bunch of squealing, excitable kids have already run head-first at it, all whilst he stands there, frozen to the spot.

Magnus grew up in the foster care system with a plain silver locket and a small scar running along his shoulder blade. He grew up with the faint memory of his mother's kind smile and his father's derisive laugh. He grew up being shoved from one place to the other, never for long - home was the darkness behind his eyelids, not the place he slept in.

He didn't grow up with magic.

He hadn't even known he had magic in him until that fluttering letter arrived, placed neatly on his pillow, with his name, _his name_ , printed on the front in elegant calligraphy. The other kids had laughed at him, when he proudly told them that he was _special_ , because he had _magic_.

Now here he is, in new jeans with no tears and a nice jacket, a gold-handled suitcase at his side, a snow-grey owl - whose name he hasn't chosen yet - in his hand and a slip of paper in his pocket directing him to Platform 93/4. His benefactor, or rather, the person who had paid for everything, had a letter delivered to him, with the only details that his schooling, and anything else he needed, will always be taken care of _for_ him. It's a little scary, considering this person, whoever they are, knows everything about him, and he knows nothing about them.

Still. It's gotten him here. On his way to Hogwarts. A place where he might - hopefully - find a place to finally call home.

 

* * *

 

 

"You could fit me in your suitcase."

Isabelle Lightwood may be small, in stature and in age, but that doesn't limit her degree of audibility.

"Iz. For the last time, I _cannot sneak you_ into Hogwarts. When you are old enough, then you can come, but not before."

Isabelle rolled her eyes at her elder brother's antics. How he was old enough for Hogwarts, and not her, she didn't understand. The age rules were simply ridiculous.

"As much as this exchange is amusing - and believe me, it is - Alec, if we don't leave now, we'll miss the train." Their brother, Jace, stands with his arms folded, a wry smirk on his face. He's enjoying this far more than Alec is happy with.

"I'll write to you every week," Alec promises, drawing his sister in for a hug. Her embrace is tight, painfully so, and Alec misses her as soon as he pulls away.

Jace hugs her next, his blonde head bowing against hers. "I'll write to you when I remember."

Isabelle smiles, but there's a hidden sadness in her eyes. The three of them haven't once been separated - the distance will be tough on all of them, but Isabelle most of all, because it's still a year until she'll be able to join them. Instead she's left at home, in a lonely house beneath the care of house-elves because their parents are never home.

"Don't have too much fun without me!" Isabelle waves, as they line up with their trolleys in front of the entrance to Platform 93/4.

"Wouldn't dream of it." Alec replies.

Within the next few minutes, they've disappeared through the wall.

 

* * *

 

 

Magnus is one of the first students to actually board the train. He secures himself a nice little empty cabin, and stretches his long legs out along the seat. There's an almost humming energy to the train - it reverberates around him, like a magnetic field.

Magic? Must be. He's never felt it like this before, it's always been this internal force of energy. Yet now it's, it's everywhere, surrounding - though pleasantly so, a nice, warm buzz. It's a feeling he could easily get used to, if he allowed himself.

The train fills up faster than he expects, the thundering sound of excited feet and happy cheering roaring past. He doesn't have to wonder about how long he'll have the carriage to himself - the door slides open with a clean _swoosh_ sound, revealing a lanky boy with piercing green eyes and dark curly hair, and a slightly shorter girl with shimmering silver-white hair.

"Shove over," The boy demands, in an oddly bored voice. His accent is crisp - London.

"Please," The girl adds. Her voice is firm, but kind. Magnus likes her immediately. He's not too sure about the other one.

"Of course." If there is one thing his mother taught him, it was manners.

The girl slides in first, the grouchy boy following. They sit opposite Magnus, who settles back into his original position. All three stare at each other for buzzing minutes of echoing silence - it is the girl who speaks first.

"I haven't seen you around before. My name's Catarina, and this-" She waves at the boy, who simply nods half-heartedly. "Is Ragnor. Don't mind him, he takes a while to warm up to people."

"That's because people are irritating." Ragnor mumbles, turning his head to the window, where luscious fields of colourful flowers race by.

Magnus almost laughs. "Magnus," He introduces, smiling as widely as he can. "It's a pleasure to meet you."

Catarina smiles kindly back, and then elbows Ragnor in the side. To his credit, Ragnor barely winces. "Why can't you be as nice as him?"

"Because I'm me," Ragnor looks up, setting a critical gaze on Magnus. "And from the looks of it, he's a Muggle-born. They're inherently ... good-natured."

Magnus resists the urge to differ - not that he really understands what a 'Muggle-born' is, or whether he should be offended by the term (though he's been called far worse). Thankfully, Catarina steps in and does it for him.

"Muggle's aren't always good, Ragnor. And besides that, it doesn't matter who his parents were, what matters is who _he_ is." That charmingly kind smile returns. "And I think he's a wonderful person."

"Thanks." Magnus is struck with an odd and sudden sense of shyness. It's not a feeling he's entirely comfortable with.

"You seem to know a lot," _About me, about magic, about this crazy place we're going._ "Are you..."

Magnus isn't sure where he's going, but thankfully Catarina seems to understand what he's saying, or at least trying to.

"We both grew up with magic," She explains. "But don't worry, we'll be able to help you."

Magnus doesn't trust easily. He learnt the hard way that trust can be easily abused. But part of him thinks he could trust Catarina - and Ragnor, too, to a degree.

It hits him for the first time - not when he enters the train, nor when he purchases a Chocolate Frog and _almost_ squeals when it lands on his face - but when he first slides on the silky, ink-black floor-length robe; that it's actually happening.

He's going to Hogwarts, to learn magic - this hidden part of him that until recently he never even knew he had.

When he allows himself to think about it, it's terrifying.

 

* * *

 

 

"Do you think I could write with this?"

Alec takes a very long, very slow sip of his iced pumpkin juice and stares at Jace, unimpressed.

Jace, either not noticing or not really caring, nips on the end of his Sugar Quill thoughtfully. "I'm just saying, it would be really nice to have something to eat while I work."

"Firstly," Alec sighs. "You're not exactly the type to actively do work, are you?"

Jace grins, but stays silent.

"And secondly, the professors aren't going to let you bring in food, let alone eat your writing equipment. And don't tell me you'll just hide it, because they're smarter than you and then you'll get detention and I don't want to hear you whining about it."

Jace shrugs. "I suppose I should be working towards gaining points for Gryffindor," He says, admitting defeat.

They're practically guaranteed to get into Gryffindor. Both of their parents were in Gryffindor, as were their grandparents on _both_ sides. Jace especially - he'd fit into Gryffindor like it was a glove.

"It wouldn't be a good start to your first year, no." Alec agrees.

Though he adamantly refuses to tell anyone, he's a little nervous about Hogwarts. He's never been entirely comfortable around people he doesn't know, and now he's headed to an entire school of witches and wizards, most of whom are probably better at magic than he is, where he'll have to join a - a house, and a - a new _family_ for seven years through his schooling.

What if he's not good enough? What if he fails his classes? His parents were some of the best in their graduating year, at Potions especially - if Alec fails any of them...

He'll just have to try his hardest. Study as much as he can, to make it absolutely certain that his parents won't have any room to be disappointed with him.

"I can't wait to join the Quidditch team," Jace announces. It brings Alec sharply from his thoughts, like pulling on a taught string. "I'm going to be the best damn Seeker Gryffindor has ever seen."

"Harry Potter." Alec replies, curtly.

Jace frowns, and then slumps against his seat. "That was like, forever ago, Alec." It was barely twenty-something years. "I'm going to be even better than him."

"He managed to get on the team in his first year. I'd like to see you do that." It's a mistake, providing Jace with such a challenge, which Alec realises after he's said it.

"I will," Jace grins smugly. "Just to prove you wrong."

The annoying thing, is that even though he's joking, it wouldn't entirely surprise Alec if he managed it. If there was anyone that Alec believed had the capability to, it was Jace.

"We'll see." Alec retorts. Just because he believes it, doesn't mean that Jace's ego needs any prompted inflating.

The train rumbles along steadily, clashing with the erratic beat of Alec's heart. They'll have to put on their robes soon - after that, there won't be any turning back, no hiding in the deep confines of his comfort zone.

Jace grins brightly, and Alec tries to match it - most of his heart is in it, there's just a dark part of him that is terrified of what he's about to face.

 

* * *

 

"I thought it was a school." Magnus states, in response to Ragnor's descriptions - a castle with towers that reach the sky, a giant tree with spiralling branches that attack anyone or anything that gets too close...

He adjusts the sleeves of his robe. He's not used to wearing something so ... formal. And itchy. Then again, Ragnor and Catarina both seem perfectly comfortable in their robes, so it might just be a problem confined to Magnus.

"It is." Ragnor deadpans, as though he cannot believe how stupid Magnus is being.

_'Forgive me,'_ He thinks, keeping the thoughts silent. _'I'm just a Muggle-born.'_

The reaction to the term from Catarina and Ragnor hadn't given Magus an indicator of whether it is a good thing or something to use against him. Catarina's lovely, and hadn't spoken any word to him in a mean way, and Ragnor had just said it like it was simply a fact, but there's something about the term that gives Magnus a feeling of restlessness.

Regardless, he tries to brush it off, because a fresh wave of anticipation is washing over him, and something tells him they don't have that much time left before the train stops.

"It's also home to the students, for most of if not all of the year," Catarina explains. "It has to be big to accommodate for all of it's requirements."

Magnus just stares in awed silence. None of the foster homes he'd been set to had ever looked as grandeur as this. It's a lot to try to take in - yet no matter how difficult it is for him to consider, this is his new reality, and he doesn't have very long to come to grips with it.

Long gone are the cruel taunts of nasty children and the dark foster homes with "parents" who struggle to understand him, and therefore don't try.

Here, is Hogwarts, a new home, a fresh start. A place where he can finally be who he's meant to.

 

* * *

 

 

"It's so dark."

Alec rolls his eyes amusedly. "It's not called the 'Black Lake' for nothing."

Jace grabs his wrist, and tugs him along. "Hurry up, Professor Exact, or we'll get separated. We need to grab a boat, now."

Alec and Jace haven't been separated since Jace came to join the Lightwoods at six, after the untimely and unexpected death of his father - his mother's death still a secret kept from him. All that Jace knows, is that his mother passed when he was young.

They're inseparable, thick as thieves - though Jace is usually the one to start trouble and Alec is the one who cleans up the mess left behind.

Jace manages to snag them an otherwise empty boat. Alec's robe pools around his feet as he settles in, his nerves as rocky as the dark water beneath them. Other prospective First Years climb into their own boats - there's a lot of them, a lot of people, far more than Alec is used to being around.

"Hey," Jace nudges him with his foot. "Everything's going to be okay. Just, relax. And smile. We made it."

Alec smiles, weakly, and nods. Jace is right, which isn't that surprising. He always seems to know what Alec needs to hear.

"Yeah," He whispers. "That we did."

If anything else, at least Alec will have Jace to help him through.

 

* * *

 

"This isn't a school," Magnus declares, as they step off the boat that had carried them across what Ragnor had told him was called the 'Black Lake'. "This is some Disney magic."

When he was younger, caught between homes and orphanages, his babysitter had been animated films - his first glimpse at magic, though nothing like what he's already been witness to: cards with live, moving pictures, chocolate frogs that jump like real animals, a wall possible to run through, a wand that literally hums in his hand...

"Merlin's beard, what is a _Disney_?"

Magnus laughs softly. "It's a ... a type of, well it's a ... I'll have to just show you some day."

"You boys should quit squabbling and hurry it up before you get left behind." Catarina slips her hands behind an arm each, leading them along either side of her. They've been acquainted for barely a day, but Magnus is already subconsciously looking to her for directions.

He hasn't attached himself to somebody new like that in more years than he cares to count. It's a strange feeling, but having friends is better than being alone, so he's not about to give it up now. Even if he is still a little wary.

The First Years get herded together by a strangely large man with thick arms and a wiry, bushy brown beard, a bunch of bumbling eleven-year-olds knocking elbows and almost trampling on each other's toes. Some of them, like Magnus, look awed and in shock, whereas a lot of others appear calm, like they're not surprised by any of it.

They've barely stepped past the large, ornate wooden doors before a loud _whoop_ echoes around the room. The sound came from a golden-haired boy at the front, who's energetically skipping behind the burly man, occasionally stopping to turn back and poke - literally, poke - at a dark-haired boy a few inches taller, who for his part, appears used to the behaviour and far more solemn than expected from an eleven-year-old.

"Bloody Lightwoods." Ragnor grumbles.

Magnus frowns. "Who?"

"They're a pureblood family who have to be best of the best - arrogant, stuck-up, privileged snobs."

"Pureblood meaning that they come from a long line of wizards and witches - no 'Muggle' or non-magic in their bloodline." Catarina clears up, frowning slightly at Ragnor. "Rags, these ones could be different."

"I hate that nickname," Ragnor states. "Besides, they're _Lightwoods_ \- snobbiness is literally in their blood."

"One of these days you guys are going to have to clear this whole magic families business up for me." Magnus adds in. "It's a lot of nonsense to me at the moment."

"I wouldn't stress," Ragnor tells him, waving a flippant hand. There's a slight crease to his forehead, but then, Magnus hasn't seen it disappear yet. "You'll find out soon enough."

It's very ... doom and gloom. Not exactly Magnus' style, but then again, there's a lot of things he's yet to discover about himself, so who's to say what his style actually is.

"So, where are we going now?" He asks, because they're still being ushered through doors and Magnus doesn't remember being told anything.

"To discover where you belong in the school." Catarina says. It's cryptic, but all that Magnus is going to get out of her.

Truthfully, he's just glad that he's finally in a place where he belongs. He already feels more comfortable than he's ... ever felt, before.

 

* * *

 

Alec has heard stories of Hogwarts, the highs and lows, tales from both Wizarding wars; his parents had described the castle and everything it has to offer ... but none of it prepares him for the real thing.

It's huge. Intimidatingly so.

The spires of the towers stretch up to the sky, the stone glittering in the evening light. There's a heavy aura of magic surrounding it, seeping into his skin, blending in with the magic leaking off the students. It's an enigmatic, exhilarating feeling, such intense waves of magic sweeping around them: warm, comforting not - not the stone cold center that lies within the magic of his family home.

Jace nudges him with his elbow, and Alec grins in response. "I know."

He's worried about being sorted, about getting lost, about all these new subjects to learn - but right this moment, with his ink robe around his shoulders and anticipation tingling along his skin, none of it matters.

Because he's at Hogwarts, finally, and that is the only thing that should matter. The only thing he'll let matter.

 

* * *

 

They're ushered into a gigantic room, the size of an entire house, with long stretching tables and floating candles. The older students are already sitting at the tables, in four separate crowds. For the first time, Magnus notices that each section has a different coloured tie - red and gold, silver and green, yellow and black, blue and bronze. They must represent the Houses that Ragnor had mentioned. Magnus can't remember the names, but then again, he'll be finding out soon enough.

The First Years are led through the center and up to the front, stopping in a mumbling huddle before a small stool with a wrinkled old hat, that is in a very - sterotypically witch-shaped-style.

It seemed that stories were indeed based off some remnants of truth.

Behind the hat stood a rather tall, thin man with a red and gold tie, shimmering gold threads lining his robe. He has a slight smudge of dirt beneath his jaw, but his smile is wide and kind and his eyes are bright.

"My name is Professor Longbottom, I'm the Deputy Head. I'd like to welcome our new First Year students to the school - you will all now be called up and sorted into one of four houses - your house is your family during your time at Hogwarts."

Magnus has only just swallowed the information, when the hat begins to sing.

_"You might belong in Gryffindor,_

_Where dwell the brave at heart,_

_Their daring, nerve, and chivalry_

_Set Gryffindors apart;_

_"You might belong in Hufflepuff,_

_Where they are just and loyal,_

_Those patient Hufflepuffs are true_

_And unafraid of toil;_

_"Or yet in wise old Ravenclaw,_

_if you've a ready mind,_

_Where those of wit and learning,_

_Will always find their kind;_

_"Or perhaps in Slytherin_

_You'll make your real friends,_

_Those cunning folks use any means_

_To achieve their ends."_

There's a rumble of muttered sound once the hat stops singing. Magnus is still trying to come to terms with the fact that a hat had just opened it's - _mouth?_ \- and spoke actual words. Correction: sung, actual words.

"Are you nervous?" Catarina asks, bumping his shoulder gently.

Magnus would like to lie, but: "Truthfully - I'm terrified."

"That's okay," Catarina smiles - it chips a little of Magnus' nerves away. "We all are. Wherever the Sorting Hat puts you, though ... it's the house you're meant to be in. Sometimes you just aren't aware of it."

"What if we're not in the same house, though?" Magnus asks, allowing himself to consider the possibility for the first time.

"We'll still be friends." Catarina promises. "Houses won't separate us."

Her words are sweet, but ring with the feeling that they won't be sharing a house. They haven't known each other for long enough for Magnus to feel comfortable with the idea of them being separated, yet still remaining friends.

"Houses might separate _us,_ " Ragnor says - Magnus hopes it's just a joke. He can't really tell with Ragnor. "I prefer not to make promises I'm not certain I can keep."

Catarina glares at him. "Don't."

Magnus swallows a snigger, and then has to swallow again, this time his fear. A girl has just been called up to the front, stepping nervously forward on shaky legs. Professor Longbottom smiles at her encouragingly, and holds up the hat. The girl sits on the stool, the hat lowered on top of her head.

The Sorting Hat has barely touched her head before it screams loudly: "Ravenclaw!"

The table with the bronze and blue ties - Ravenclaw - stand up and clap politely, wide grins on their faces. The girl smiles shyly, and walks over to the table ... to her new house.

Before Magnus knows it, his name is being called up, despite paying attention to the people who went up before him. He wades through the crowd, trying to ignore the tightening of his stomach - he knows it will be fine, and there's literally no reason for him to be nervous, but ... he still is.

The hat hums when Professor Longbottom places it on his head. Magnus startles when, out of nowhere, it begins to speak.

_"Hm,"_ It murmurs. _"Where to place you ... an interesting past, could lead to an interesting future..."_

Magnus wonders if anyone else can hear the hat talking. He hadn't heard it when the other people were wearing it, but then again, apparently he hadn't been paying as much attention as he'd thought.

_"I think I know where to put you-"_

Magnus swears he actually jumps when the Sorting Hat shouts out the name of his house.

"Slytherin!"

There's a loud roar as the table of silver and green jump up and clap excitedly. Some smirk, proudly, which is strange considering he has never met any of them before. Still. He feigns a - hopefully realistic smile - and steps forward to join his new house. As he passes, he catches sight of Catarina, who gives him an encouraging thumbs-up.

Maybe, she's right. Maybe everything will be okay.

 

**-**

 

Catarina and Ragnor both get sorted into Ravenclaw, which is very obviously _not Slytherin_ , which - well, frankly, it sucks. But Catarina had assured him that things would be okay, that they'd all still be friends, and he has to believe that ... because the other Slytherins are very self-assured and believe they are good enough to be in - what he quickly learns is quite a prestigious house - and Magnus is still coming to grips with the idea that he is even a wizard in the first place.

He has a day, or rather most of a whole day, before classes start - which, he imagines, would be best spent discovering more about the school and where classrooms and such are before he actually has to start learning how to do magic.

Which is both exciting and terrifying in a scrunched up kind of way.

At the same time, though, it gives him some time to make friends with other first-year Slytherin's like himself.

Hopefully, he'll be able to find someone he actually likes. And can tolerate.

 

* * *

 

_"Hufflepuff!"_

The word rings in Alec's ears, still. It's been a few minutes, already - he's surrounded by fellow students in yellow and black with kind eyes and warm smiles, but it's not enough to chase away the chilling fear creeping up his neck.

Jace had been sorted into Gryffindor. No surprises there. And Alec ... he thought that he'd be sorted there, too. It's what he'd thought his whole life.

Turns out, he'd been wrong.

Instead of being sorted into the house his family had built their names from, Alec was sorted into the house that, as a child, he'd been taught to recognise as "weak" and "lazy", the "lowest house" ... which, logically, would mean that Alec ... that Alec is weak and mediocre and of a lesser standard, because he was sorted into that house, so his traits match it, which would mean that-

That he simply isn't good enough for Gryffindor, the grand house, the house that the famed _Harry Potter_ and his friends came from.

That everything his parents had drilled into him from the moment he was born was just wasted effort - he can't possibly be the wizard he's expected to, now.

He's just ... _Alec._

 

* * *

 

The Great Feast is nothing like Magnus has ever seen before.

The _food_ , for one: roast beef, roast chicken, pork chops, lamb chops, sausages, bacon, steak, joints, steak and kidney pie, boiled potatoes, roast potatoes, mashed potato, chips, Yorkshire pudding, peas, carrots, gravy, ketchup. All appear out of nowhere on empty plates, like, like - like _magic._

And then there's dessert. Dessert, to Magnus, has previously only been a far-off desire, a treat at the best of times. On his birthday, if he was lucky, he might get a peppermint humbug to suck on, which was supposed to last him the whole year, if not longer.

Now, he can choose, and the options are endless. Blocks of assorted ice cream, apple pies, chocolate gateau, treacle tart, pumpkin tart, chocolate éclairs and jam doughnuts, trifle, strawberries, jelly, rice pudding.

Around him are the sounds of delightful chatter and laughter and constantly, surrounding, the almost buzzing sense of what he can only assume is magic.

It's skin-tingling and heart-beat-inducing and he's never felt more at home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> credit to my parabatai Hannah and her endless stream of HP knowledge - this chapter wouldn't have turned out this good - or accurate - without your help: yours, and the harry potter wikia.
> 
> All the love to my fabulous collaborator Vulturemonem for whom I have all the gratitude to give - I wouldn't have the courage to do this without you. 
> 
>  
> 
> Feel free to comment down below with your house/what house you believe fits you!


	2. First Impressions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which the aftermath of Alec's sorting leaves him with a churning stomach, Magnus makes some new friends, and flying lessons are where all the first-year drama happens.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so excited for this collab! Shout-out to my wonderful co-author—thank you so much for listening to all my ramblings, and for being a generally amazing person. 
> 
> (I'm also blaming you for letting me name this chapter after a Jane Austen book. By the way. <3)
> 
> This chapter by vulturemonem! (I'm a Ravenclaw, apparently, but I'm pretty sure that anyone who knows me would have enough basis to suggest I might be a Hufflepuff.)

Alec is numb as he sits down, the warmth of the expressions of his older housemates around him doing nothing to penetrate the fear, and the dismay, that's gripped at his heart.

His parents are going to be... God, he doesn't even know. They're going to be disappointed. Disappointed in _him_. He's...he's failed them. There's something about him that's...not right. Not good enough.

He knows - he _knows_ \- that the Hogwarts Houses aren't like they used to be. Students are united. Houses mingle. Inter-House competition is fierce, and it's a key point of school life, but it's not nasty. It's not vicious. Not like it used to be, before the war. He knows that it shouldn't be such a big deal anymore.

But he can't shake everything that's been engraved into every facet of his mind since he was old enough to understand the English language: Gryffindor is where he's to go. Gryffindor houses the brave, and the chivalrous, and the daring. Gryffindor has history, and has produced truly awe-inspiring witches and wizards.

Anywhere else. If only he'd been sorted into Ravenclaw, or even _Slytherin_. Ravenclaws are smart, and perceptive, and have the minds to change the world. Slytherin, while his parents tend to turn their noses up at the house, is at least prestigious, and powerful, and proud.

What does Hufflepuff stand for? Love? Kindness? Loyalty?

Alec just doesn't _understand_. How does he fit that? He's been raised just like Jace, and Izzy; similarly to how his parents were raised. He's been taught the same things. He's been spun the same moral compass—although his wavers every time he hears his parents taking a little too much pride in their blood status. They seem far too quick to forget that Jace isn't a pureblooded Lightwood. It doesn't sit right in his stomach, somehow.

He's drawn out of his thoughts by an alarmed exclamation to his right, followed by the hum of conversation starting up.

Oh. Food. The Great Feast.

Alec's stomach grumbles, and he realises how hungry he is. He and Jace had bought food on the train, earlier, but that had been hours ago, and they devoured twice as much food each as both their parents put together.

"What— Wow," says a voice beside him, sounding appreciative.

Alec glances across, and sees a skinny boy with oversized robes, messy brown hair, and square-framed glasses gaping at all the food that suddenly materialised onto golden plates.

"Pretty cool, huh?" a tall boy who has to be in at least the sixth year says, smiling at the nerdy kid beside Alec. "I take it you're not from a wizarding family."

"Uh, no," squeaks the kid beside Alec, going instantly red in the face.

"Don't worry. You'll get used to it all pretty quickly. I'm Julian. Hufflepuff Quidditch captain, as of this year, so if you're any good at flying..." Julian trails off, grinning at the line of Hufflepuff first years all sitting near where Alec is.

Julian says something else, but Alec can see Jace across the hall, waving and grinning at him. He forces a smile onto his face, and waves back, trying not to draw any attention to himself. Jace gives him the thumbs up; he's sitting beside a red-headed girl, food piled high on his plate, golden eyes alight and overjoyed and alive.

Alec swallows. He's glad Jace is happy. And he's glad Jace doesn't seem to care that he's in Hufflepuff—although perhaps that's just because he's overcome by the atmosphere brewing in the Hall.

"What about you?" Julian asks, and Alec realises a little too late that he's being addressed. He feels heat bloom across his checks, and stutters out a, "Pardon?"

Julian smiles patiently. They've attracted the attention of several older students, girls and boys alike. "What's your name?"

"Uh–" Alec hesitates for only a moment, before deciding very firmly that _nobody_ in this damn place is going to call him that stupid, pretentious name he's got. Who needs a name four syllables long? "Alec. Lightwood."

Julian's eyebrows shoot up, and Alec sees him glance behind towards the Gryffindor table, briefly. "Huh." He scrutinises Alec, something akin to, Alec thinks, suspicion in his eyes. He knew already that people knew the Lightwood family name, and recognised the Lightwoods as Gryffindors.

But Julian's expression softens after a moment, and he merely says, "Well, welcome to Hufflepuff, Alec."

And Alec thinks that, even if his parents hate him for the house he's been put in, maybe his housemates won't.

***

Magnus can't shake the jittery, happy feeling in his stomach. People are laughing and talking around him, joyful and relaxed younger students, shameless and loud older students (whom Magnus can't help but feel a little jealous of, because he wishes he were that self-confident and self-aware) and the rest of the first years, noticeable by their silence, save for their hesitant requests for someone else to pass them food.

But he's...content. The Great Hall is _beautiful_. The ceiling - which he presumes is created by some kind of magical illusion - forms a deep blue sky above them, stars twinkling, soft wisps of cloud floating across. Candles float around, hovering above them, some in chandeliers and some in holsters along the walls, and then—

Magnus drops his fork onto his plate with a clatter, flinching back in his seat, eyes going wide. There's a snort from beside him, but he can't find it in himself to be self-conscious, because _what the hell is that?_

"First years!" cries a silvery, translucent head, a wicked sparkle in its eyes. It looks like a man, but—not. Decidedly not. "Ooh, I _love_ first years!"

"Leave them alone, Peeves," says a girl further up the table, rolling her eyes. "The Bloody Baron won't be happy."

The thing - Peeves - shudders dramatically, and, before Magnus' astonished eyes, rises up, out of the table, revealing the rest of a body. It twirls in the air, makes a cawing sound at the Ravenclaws sitting on the next table along, and then whizzes off to the other side of the hall, where it leaps into a bowl of strawberries at the Gryffindor table.

Magnus gapes. "Was that—"

"A ghost?" supplies a bored, deadpan voice to his left. "Of course it was a ghost."

Magnus turns towards the girl. She's tall - probably taller than he is - with long, dark hair, and a scowl on her face. She's stabbing viciously into a piece of chocolate gateau, ignoring him.

"Ghosts are real?" he asks, unperturbed by her attitude. It's a lot better than most of the kids he had to suffer in the care system. A few of the kids hated him for his skin colour - small town midland England was always rather exclusive - but mout hated him for no reason other than they hated everyone.

The girl turns to look at him, one eyebrow raised. "Yes? Obviously?" She squints one eye. "Are you foreign?"

Magnus frowns. "No?" _Are you racist?_ Technically, he was born in Indonesia, but he'd been tossed into the care system in England, when his mother had died, before he was really old enough to remember her. His mother had had ties back to the UK, was all he really knew about why he'd ended up here.

"Oh." Comprehension seems to dawn on her. "Are you a muggle-born?"

"I don't really know what that means," Magnus admits, shoulders slumping a little.

"Someone with non-magic parents," she says. "There never really used to be any muggle-borns in Slytherin, until after the war. Blood status doesn't seem to matter as much any more."

"Except with the elite purebloods," says a quiet voice across the table. This girl is blonde, and she smiles tightly at him. "Like the Lightwoods, for example."

The dark-haired girl wrinkles her nose. "Exactly."

He tries to remember what Catarina and Ragnor told him. "A pureblood is...someone with magic parents?"

"Not exactly," the blonde girl tells him. "Someone whose family has absolutely no muggle ancestors. Well. Mostly no muggles. Some people call themselves purebloods if they haven't had any muggle blood for four or five generations, but the elites are insistent that they've never, ever tainted their bloodlines with _muggles_." She rolls her eyes. "I guarantee you, eighty percent of the people in this room are half and half. We call them half-bloods. People whose families are mixed between witches and wizards and muggles," she adds, to his bewildered look.

Magnus is exhausted just thinking about it. It just sounds like the- the magical version of the British class system. And it sounds equally dumb.

"I'm Lily," the dark-haired girl says.

Magnus introduces himself, and the blonde girl tells them that her name is Lydia. Lily doesn't smile, but her scowl loses some of its force when Magnus smiles at her. Lydia just looks back down at her food, rubbing her fingers together along her fork.

There's an abrupt clap, at the remaining food in front of them disappears. Magnus jumps back, still unused to this whole magic thing, and Lily snorts again. He rolls his eyes at her.

A tall, imposing witch with a severe face and her hair scraped into a bun raps a spoon against her glass, walking across the stone floor up at the front, where a long line of teachers sit, and stands behind a podium.

"Welcome back," she says, voice reaching out across the hall, "to a new year at Hogwarts." She pauses, lips turning up a little at the corners, as she surveys the students in the hall. Nobody says a word; Magnus is stunned by the respect being shown. "To our practised students, I trust you will fight your way through this year with minimal bruising; to our new students, welcome, and I'm sure your older peers will point you in the right direction when the staircases try to confuse you."

A laugh rings out across the hall; some of the first years snigger, and others, like Magnus, stare, dumbfounded. Staircases? What is she talking about?

"For those of you who are unaware, my name is Professor McGonagall. I am your headmistress. I hope not to see any of you in my office too often." She smiles wryly, and even Magnus finds himself smiling - albeit nervously - at that. "I'm pleased to welcome into our ranks this year, Professor Aldertree, who will be taking over the role of Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher."

A wizard sitting at the end of the table stands, briefly, and makes a little bow. There's a smattering of polite applause, and he sits down again.

"One final notice from me. The Forbidden Forest–" her eyes fix pointedly halfway along the Gryffindor table, where a girl is grinning, a gleaming prefect badge pinned to her robes below an even shiner one proclaiming her Quidditch captain "–is named as such for a reason. Students are not permitted inside the forest without explicit permission from a teacher. Regardless of what your siblings may have told you."

Everyone in the hall - save the first years - is looking at the girl. She doesn't look particularly bothered.

"Prefects, I expect you to show the first years to their dormitories. The rest of you, off to your common rooms to settle in!"

The moment Professor McGonagall stops speaking and moves back towards the teacher's table, there's chaos in the hall. Students jump up out of their seats, shouting across to their friends in other houses, sixth and seventh years wading through the masses, first years like Magnus frozen stiff.

"Come on," Lily says, grabbing him by the robes. "Pay attention. The Slytherin prefects are over there."

Magnus lets himself be pulled through the crowd.

***

The girl whom everyone had been staring at, earlier, approaches the Hufflepuff table when McGonagall has finished her speech, and slings her arms around Julian's shoulders. "Hi," she says, and kisses his cheek.

Julian shakes his head. "You're a prefect, Emma. I'm pretty sure you're not supposed to be here."

Emma shrugs. "The fifth year prefects have got it covered. Besides–" She looks at Alec. "Your brother is hilarious," she says. "Reckons he's got what it takes to be a better seeker than Harry Potter."

Alec chokes, and feels himself go red again, throat closing up.

Emma chuckles. "I'll see you tomorrow, Jules," she says, winking at the assembled first years, and then disappears.

Julian shakes his head. "Follow us," he says, gesturing to himself and then the two girls and another boy, whom Alec presumes are the Hufflepuff prefects. "Stick together, and watch out for the staircases. If Peeves tries anything, don't panic." He smiles kindly, and then gestures for them to follow.

Alec finds himself walking behind the nerdy boy he'd sat with during the feast. Simon, he's found out his name is. Despite Julian's warning, when the staircase they're walking down shifts and swings abruptly, creaking, Simon yelps.

"We've got the best common room in the school," one the prefects says, as they follow her down a long, well-lit corridor. "Because we're right beside the kitchens. The other houses will bug you for years about how to get into the kitchens, but it's a Hufflepuff secret." She winks at them. "You'll work it out pretty quickly."

As though to prove her point, when they reach the entrance to the Hufflepuff common room, a house elf is scurrying out. The house elf waves at them, smiling from beneath a beanie hat, slippers slapping on the floor, before dashing past. Alec wonders whether all the house elves at Hogwarts are free, and there of their own accord. He hopes they are.

Julian raps on a dark-wooded barrel five times, rhythmically; an eye appears, and Julian states the password. A moment later, the entrance swings open, and they follow the prefects through.

The common room is cozy, with a low ceiling, and a portrait of a woman Alec knows to be Helga Hufflepuff hung above a lit fireplace. It's decorated with yellow and black, comfortable, squishy armchairs dotted around the room, honey-coloured pine wood curving up stairs and banisters towards the back, through which Alec presumes are the dormitories.

Julian tells them briefly about the password, and warns them that the Hufflepuff ghost, the Fat Friar, often takes to praying in the corner of the common room on stormy nights, and not to let it bother them. There are older students piling through the door as Julian speaks, and Alec finds himself shifting nervously in place.

"Dormitories are up the stairs, girls on the right, boys on the left. You're on the first floor, lucky buggers." He grins. "I have to climb up six flights to go to bed."

They all laugh - a little bit, because, apparently, they're all as nervous as Alec is.

"Your things will already be up there. You haven't got any lessons tomorrow, except a flying lesson with Madame Hooch in the afternoon. Pay attention, all of you, because I've got two years left at school for Hufflepuff to win the Quidditch cup, and we are going to do it." He smiles. "Now go away and go to bed, before the fourth years start up with exploding snap and someone sneaks in firewhiskey."

Upstairs, the dormitories are decorated in similar colours to downstairs. Alec sees his suitcase already set at the foot of a bed, with three Hufflepuff ties laid out on top. His teeth find his lower lip, chewing nervously as he crosses the room and bends down by his suitcase, the other boys doing the same around him.

He unpacks his things, sets his wand by his bedside table, and follows the example of the boys around him - some of whom are talking quietly, while others, like him, are silent - and changes out of his robes and into pyjamas.

When Alec climbs into bed, and the boys around him fall quiet, breaths evening out as sleep pulls them under, he can't help the shudder that runs through him. Because even if his housemates seem generally... _nice_ , and even if Jace seemed perfectly happy and not at all disappointed in the hall earlier, his parents won't think that way.

***

On the other side of the castle, Magnus stares, wide-eyed, as the Slytherin prefects lead them down the staircases, which, high up above them, are shifting and spinning as other students climb up.

The Slytherin common room is...a bit cold. And green. Its grandeur is obvious, with high ceilings and shining leather chairs and sofas. There's a glistening marble fireplace in one corner, below a portrait of a bumbling, smiling old man, and a plaque reading _Horace Slughorn: in memory of bravery untold during the Battle of Hogwarts._

"It used to be worse," one of the prefects tells them, smirking at their awe-filled looks. Well. Magnus thinks he probably looks terrified, but Lily certainly looks reverential. "They got rid of the skulls and the rat corpses, apparently. And magicked away the green tinge. The lights are new, too."

They gape at him. The prefect laughs.

"I'm not serious," he says. "Not about the rat corpses, anyway. It hasn't been like that since before the war."

He tells them where their dormitories are, and they disperse, heading up the stairs. Magnus says a somewhat shy goodbye to Lily, who looks at him like he's being ridiculous, and flounces off up to the girls' dormitories with a short _goodnight_. Magnus finds that he's not offended: Lily doesn't exactly seem like the sentimental, cuddly type.

Inside his dormitory, Magnus heads straight over to where he can see his suitcase, and sits down on what he presumes is his bed.

"I'm Sebastian," an obnoxiously tall boy with near-white hair says, from where he's standing by his own bed. Everything about him oozes pretentiousness, and Magnus has to restrain himself from rolling his eyes. He knows these sorts of kids all too well.

A couple of the boys nod in Sebastian's direction, one raises his eyebrows as though to say, _okay?_ , and others, like Magnus, ignore him.

"Just thought we should get to know each other," Sebastian mutters, clearly not used to being treated on a par with everyone else.

"I'm pretty sure that's the point of not having any lessons tomorrow," another boy says. "And I'm dog-tired, I dunno about you."

Sebastian turns away. The other boys exchange rueful smiles.

When Magnus' head hits the pillow, he falls asleep almost instantly, dreaming of magic and laughter and astonishing ceilings and moving portraits, and the abrupt, sudden warmth of a place that he might finally be able to call home.

***

Breakfast the following morning is equally as chaotic as dinner the previous night had been—but with significantly less grandeur.

Alec is surprised - but not displeased - to walk into the hall with Simon to find that he has to blink, twice, before he remembers which table is designated as the Hufflepuffs'. He expected to find a sea of yellow and black ties all along the table—but he doesn't. It seems that, contrary to what his parents always told himself and his siblings about how Hogwarts works, inter-house friendships are...very, very common.

He and Simon have barely sat down and reached for the toast stacked in the middle before he hears someone calling his name, and he turns to find Jace, grinning and excitable, dragging the perturbed-looking red-headed girl Alec had noticed yesterday with him.

"Alec!" he says again, when he reaches the table. "Hi!" Jace throws himself down on the bench beside him, munching on a jam sandwich he'd clearly made over at the Gryffindor table.

"Uh, hi," Alec says, glancing up at the red-head, who's hugging Simon, babbling about something nineteen-to-the-dozen. "Who's that?"

"Oh—that's Clary." Jace grins. "She's pretending she hates me. I told her I don't believe her, because I'm awesome and loveable, so how could she possibly hate me?"

"Because you're obnoxious," she says, over Simon's head, and smiles a little shyly at Alec. She doesn't stutter, however, when she says, "I'm Clary Fray. Simon's my best friend. You're Alec?"

"Yeah." He clears his throat, but before he needs to come up with sometime to say, Jace is speaking again.

"So, what's Hufflepuff like?"

Alec cringes. "Um. Fine?"

"Come on," Jace says, clearly exasperated. "You can give me more than that. Do you have badgers everywhere? I owe you a sickle—there aren't any actual, real-life lions in the Gryffindor common room."

Alec laughs, feeling suddenly more at ease. "Of course there aren't. They'd eat everything. Including you. And there aren't any badgers."

"We're getting our timetables later." Jace is practically vibrating with obvious excitement. Alec doesn't think he's ever seen Jace like this. He's often moody, and sarcastic, and sure, he gets happy and playful sometimes, but not usually this kind of childish joyousness. "I hope we've got some lessons together. I wanna kick your arse in Defence Against the Dark Arts."

Clary rolls her eyes at Jace. Alec feels an odd stirring of jealousy in his chest: that's supposed to be _his_ reaction to Jace saying dumb things. But, regardless, he thinks he could like her. As long as she doesn't...replace Alec. Doesn't replace him as Jace's best friend.

Because, if he's being honest, that's the most terrifying thing about this whole mess. Being separated from Jace. Losing Jace. Losing the close relationship he has with Jace—somewhere between a brother and a best friend, and yet somehow more.

"Have you written to Izzy yet?" Jace asks.

"No." Alec bites his lip. "I- I don't know what to say. About...this."

Jace shrugs, licking his fingers as he finishes off his sandwich. "They're not actually gonna disown you or lock you in the cupboard under the stairs."

Clary glares at him. "Rude."

"He thinks he's going to be a better seeker than Harry Potter, too," Alec tells her.

Clary huffs. "You've got no respect."

Alec glances across at Simon, who's looking amused, but hasn't said anything yet. And he thinks, again, that it might all be okay.

***

"Magnus!"

Magnus turns, and sees Catarina and Ragnor sitting on the bench at the Ravenclaw table directly behind where he and Lily are sitting, looking at the timetables the Slytherin prefects had given them this morning. It doesn't mean a whole lot to him. He can't imagine why there's a whole subject dedicated to transforming things, and shouldn't there be maths and science on here, somewhere?

"Hey," he says, with a tentative smile.

"How are you feeling about Quidditch this afternoon?" she asks, while Ragnor sits diligently reading through his own timetable, completely ignoring them.

"Terrified," Magnus replies, honestly. "I thought flying broomsticks would be one of those myths that everybody here sniggers at."

Catarina smiles sympathetically. "You'll get the hang of all this pretty quickly."

Ragnor mumbles something under his breath. Magnus feels his smile slip, and he glances at Catarina uncertainly, still unsure where exactly he stands with Ragnor.

Catarina elbows Ragnor in the ribs. He glares at her, then turns to look at Magnus.

"We've got Transfiguration with the Slytherins tomorrow," she says. "Sit with us?" She nods at Lily, who has been listening in on their conversation while pretending to focus on her breakfast. "And your friend, if she'd like to."

"Yeah." Magnus smiles. "Okay. Thank you."

Ragnor is watching him carefully. He doesn't say anything, but, when Catarina turns back round to finish eating, he gives Magnus a small, measured smile.

***

All the first years are ordered into lines, outside on a large stretch of green that Alec knows isn't the Quidditch pitch, all standing beside a broomstick. Jace has a determined expression on his face as Madame Hooch steps up, brisk and no-nonsense, and warns them that she won't tolerate them mucking around.

Alec is standing between Simon and Jace, Clary and the rest of the Gryffindors on Jace's other side, with the Slytherins and Ravenclaws standing opposite them. Alec can already tell that he's going to completely humiliate himself, and this is his first ever Hogwarts lesson.

Madame Hooch instructs them to step up to their brooms, and tells them how to make them rise. A chorus of 'Up!' follows her request.

Jace's broom flies straight up into his hand. So does a Slytherin boy's. The two exchange looks: it's friendly - _ish_ \- on Jace's end, but the Slytherin boy with ridiculously light hair sneers a little. Jace's expression drops.

On his third attempt, Alec's broom also lifts up into his hand. He's surprised, for a moment, and Jace elbows him in the side, grinning, even though half the students assembled have managed to make their broomsticks lift by now.

***

Magnus recognises the two boys standing across from him, and slightly to his right, as the Lightwood siblings whom Ragnor had pointed out yesterday, before their boat trip across the Black Lake. He'd noticed that the blonde one was talking to the red-head standing beside him when they'd walked out; the black-haired boy, however, seems to be above conversing with anyone except his brother. He'd said all but nothing to the brown-haired boy who'd been chatting animatedly to him earlier, and Magnus still hasn't seen him speak to anyone at all but Goldilocks.

Magnus refocuses his attention on his broom, still lying on the ground. It quivers every time he says, 'Up!', but it doesn't rise. Sebastian, Lily, and Lydia are all grasping theirs, as is Catarina. Ragnor, however, like him, appears to be having some difficulty. Ragnor catches his eye, and purses his lips in what Magnus thinks might be solidarity.

It takes at least twenty minutes, but, finally, the entire class has their brooms in hand, and Magnus' blood is thrumming at the thought that he just did actual, literal magic. Albeit, he wasn't very good at it, but sports, he knows, are never going to be his strong point.

Madame Hooch instructs them on how to mount and ride, and has them flying slowly across the lawn, hovering a mere few feet above the ground.

"This is pathetic," Lily says, flying beside him, perfectly steady while he wobbles and tries to go in a straight line. "Most of us have flown before. This is boring."

"Speak for yourself," Magnus replies, focusing on not swerving and crashing into her.

She shrugs. "It's true."

After a moment of silence, Lily begins critiquing the techniques of the people around them, fixing onto Sebastian and the blonde Lightwood as her victims, who seem to be locked in some kind of silent competition. Lightwood doesn't look like he's taking it too seriously, a confident grin on his face, but Sebastian has his teeth barred, inching his speed up every time Lightwood catches up to him.

Magnus is so busy trying not to laugh at Lily's savage, deadpan comments that his shoulders and arms shake, making his broom handle wobble precariously. He hears Lily's warning _Magnus!_ a moment too late, and finds the handle of his broom clipping Sebastian as he flies past.

Magnus is about to apologise, when Sebastian turns his head and glares at Magnus with what he believes to be entirely unnecessary hostility. It's not like that was hard enough to hurt, for god's sake, Magnus thinks.

"Mudbloods," Sebastian mutters under his breath.

Almost in sync, Lily and the golden-haired Lightwood turn to stare at Sebastian, eyes freezing. Lightwood narrows his eyes. Magnus feels himself frown: _mudblood?_ What on earth does that mean?

"Excuse you," Lightwood says, coldly.

Sebastian rolls his eyes. "You know what I meant, Lightwood. Don't be sensitive."

"No," Lily says, with a sneer. "Enlighten us, please."

"Look, I'm sorry," Magnus says.

Sebastian shrugs, and looks pointedly at Lily and Jace. "See? It's fine."

"He's not the one who should be apologising," Lightwood snaps.

Sebastian's eyes flash. "Gryffindors. All think they're better than everyone else."

"Better than you, maybe."

" _Jace_." Magnus sees the dark-haired Lightwood fly up, as steady as his brother, clearly familiar with flying. "Stop."

Jace doesn't take his eyes off Sebastian. "Alec, did you _hear_ —"

"Do you want detention from your first lesson?" Alec snaps. "Come on."

Jace shoots Sebastian one last look, and then follows Alec, leaving Sebastian to fly off in the other direction, Lily scowling after him.

Magnus, however, is watching the somber, dark-haired Lightwood. Alec. He doesn't know what, exactly, mudblood means, but he's not so stupid he can't work out that it isn't anything very nice. _Alec_ , however, hadn't even glanced in his direction.

_Arrogant, stuck-up, privileged snobs, indeed._

Or whatever Ragnor had called them.

Well. _Alec_ certainly seems to be. Goldilocks seems to be less of a jerk, but had still barely paid Magnus any attention.

"If anyone calls you that again," Lily snaps, "I'm going to stab them in the eye with my wand."

Magnus snaps out of his staring, and glances at her. "What does it mean?"

"It's a slur for muggle-borns," she replies, curtly. "Nobody says it anymore, except conceited morons. It's disgusting."

Magnus thinks of all the slurs he's been called in his years living at the orphanage, and in foster care, and carefully files it away in his mind as another cruel label he's been branded with, locking it away with all the other things that have hurt him.

All the other things he won't allow anybody else to see the effects of.

He looks over at the Lightwoods. Both of them seem to have forgotten about Sebastian: Jace is talking to the red-head again, and Alec is staring ahead, ignoring the world around him.

Magnus folds his lips into a thin line. He knows boys like Alec. They might not have inflicted the verbal abuse he'd suffered from other kids at the orphanage, but the pain he felt from the way boys like Alec turned a blind eye to protect themselves had been just as real.

So, turning away as Madame Hooch blows her whistle and demands they come down, Magnus decides then and there that he wants absolutely nothing to do with Alec Lightwood.


	3. 'Mudblood' Is Not An Appropriate Term

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Alec moves a feather, and Magnus discovers more about the Wizarding World.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Gratitude once again to my absolutely fabulous co-author - who let me title this chapter what I did, and who is always there for my endless tangents - and the human HP-wikipedia I call my parabatai. My love to you both.

"I'm really not that surprised."

Alec shrugs, as nonchalantly as possible for an eleven-year old. Jace sits across from him at the Hufflepuff table, a leg of roast chicken raised half-way to his mouth. Beside him, Clary's curious green eyes flicker between the brothers. It irritates Alec a little. This is a conversation between him and Jace, not a bloody game of Wizard's Chess.

"But you've been flying since before you could walk, practically." Jace counters.

Their parents had gotten Alec and Isabelle Witch's and Wizard's First Broomsticks for their respective fourth birthdays. Jace had gotten a more developed one, once he'd been living with them for a few months. It was a hobby they all practised a lot.

He can't fathom Alec taking three attempts to lift his broom. His own had flown into his hand before he'd even finished the word 'up'.

"Yeah, and we all thought I'd be sorted into Gryffindor." Alec's voice is sharp and self-deprecating, yet he can't find the energy to care. "Some things just don't happen the way we expect them to. I'm learning to deal with it. You should too."

Beside him, Simon sucks in an audible gasp of air. Alec sighs, and resists the urge to glare at him. The lanky boy is so mousy he'd probably jump out of his seat and then Alec would be the bad guy. He doesn't have the energy to deal with that on top of everything else.

Truthfully, he just wants to go to bed. Maybe he'll wake up and find it's all a bad dream, and this whole time he's actually been dozing on the train, and he is supposed to be sorted into Gryffindor, not Hufflepuff.

 _Hufflepuff_. What _will_ his parents think?

At the moment, thankfully, nothing. He's putting off writing to _them_ for as long as he can. Isabelle will be a little harder, but his theory is that she'll allow him a week of grace to settle and begin his classes before she starts pestering him - or worse, pestering Jace, who'll have no qualms about telling their sister everything.

"Hey, Alec, it's cool. It took me like, five attempts to lift my broom." Simon chimes in. Clary's expression softens fondly, but Alec just groans.

"Of course it did," Alec snaps. "You've never done it before. This is your first time interacting with magic in more than just your imagination."

"Look, Alec, I know today was hard for you," Clary leans in. "But there's nothing wrong with not getting something the first time."

Alec glares at her as heatedly as he can. "I don't need your sympathy, _Fray_. I don't need _anyone's_ sympathy, but certainly not yours."

"Alec!" Jace's glare carries a hint of confusion. If Alec's vision wasn't clouded by his frustration, and disappointment, he'd be able to see how ridiculous his actions are.

"What has gotten into you?" Jace asks. "I thought you were sorted into Hufflepuff, not Slytherin."

Alec rolls his eyes and stands up from the bench. "I'm going to bed. I'll see you tomorrow for Charms."

He's made it to the end of the elongated table when he hears Simon pipe up: "What about breakfast?"

It takes a while for Alec to sleep that night. The mattress beneath him feels bumpy, the room too hot and stuffy, even with his covers discarded to the end of the bed. All he seems to replay is the embarrassment that fuelled him with each attempt at lifting his broom.

And, as if that hadn't been bad enough, Jace just had to stick his nose into somebody else's business. Calling out _Sebastian Morgenstern_ in front of everyone - it was such a dumb move! Alec understands why he did it - Jace is a half-blood, after all, and mudblood is a disgusting and horrible name to call someone. But that doesn't give Jace the right to just interrupt someone else's argument, fight, whatever. The other kid, who Alec had seen looking particuarly confident at the Slytherin table earlier, would surely be able to handle himself, and if not, should learn to. It's not like Hogwarts is an easy place to be at, there is literally a _Forbidden Forest._

Besides, the last thing they need is for Jace to get detention, or whatever the equivalent is at Hogwarts - their parents are already bound to be disappointed in _Alec_. And classes start tomorrow.

Alec sighs, and flops over in his bed. His start to Hogwarts has not turned out the way he expected it would.

 

* * *

 

Magnus slips into a chair beside Catarina, and huffs.

"Not excited for your first day of classes?" She asks, curiously. Beside her, Ragnor spares a quick glance and then returns to his textbook.

"I tripped over my cauldron this morning," Magnus leans in conspiratorily. "Though, I don't think I'm the reason I tripped."

Catarina scrunches her forehead. "What do you mean?"

Magnus nods slightly towards the back row, where Sebastian is laughing loudly with a few other Slytherin boys. "I put my cauldron in my trunk last night." He explains.

Catarina follows his gaze, understanding visibly settling in. "You don't really-"

Magnus shrugs. "He called me, what is it, a _mudblood_ yesterday."

Catarina's eyes widen. Beside her, Ragnor looks up with more emotion than Magnus has ever seen on the Ravenclaw boy's face.

"Did you punch him in the face?" Ragnor asks, his voice still calm and quiet.

"No." Magnus fiddles with his wand. He's still trying to get the hang of holding it properly. "I wanted to."

Catarina is about to reply, when Lily plops in the empty seat beside Magnus. They all turn to look at her, caught off-guard by her sudden appearance.

"Sebastian is a toad." She pipes up, setting her equipment down. "Don't bother paying him any mind. He's not worth it."

Magnus smiles, though it's small and somewhat timid. Lily shrugs back, but there is a brightness to her eyes that he takes as a good sign.

The sound of firm footsteps draws their attention to the front of the room. Headmistress - or, rather, Professor McGonogall, in this case - claps her hands sharply once, the sound reverberating around the room, drawing the attention of all in the class.

"Welcome to Transfiguration. A few things to remember in my class - if you are late, then don't bother turning up. I don't accept tardiness, or excuses, unless your circumstances are dire. You are here to learn, and I expect you to listen. Magic can be a dangerous tool in the hands of someone unprepared for it, which is why you are here."

She steps forward, her stern eyes raking across the room. "At it's core, a spell is nothing more than a recipe for change. To put it simply, every word, every incantion, every swipe of your wand has consequences. The power, essentially, is all in your hands. Don't be stupid with it."

A few students in the further rows of the classroom snicker. The sound ceases almost immediately with a warning look from Professor McGonogall. It's unsurprising, considering she _is_ also the Headmistress, but Magnus gets the sense that Transfiguration will not be a class where one can just mess around freely.

He's already excited.

When Professor McGonogall dismisses their class, Magnus lets out a relieved sigh.

"What did you think of your first lesson?" Catarina inquires as they exit the classroom. Magnus readjusts his textbooks before replying.

"It was, a lot." Arguably an understatement. They'd simply gone through the outline of the course and covered the general idea of what Transfiguration is, but Magnus had still been struck with how intense it all was.

The idea of turning a match into a needle was a lot to grasp, but then Professor McGonogall had slinked into a cat, seemingly out of nowhere, and then back again. A human turning into a cat! It was the thing of movies and books, not real life. Yet seeing it in front of him, there was no possibility of Magnus accepting it as anything other than his new reality.

"Strange." He adds, after a moment.

Catarina nods in understanding. "You'll get used to it in no time, I'm sure."

Magnus smiles gratefully, appreciating her honest support. "I hope so."

Lily pokes his back with her wand, effectively interrupting their conversation. "Come on, we have History of Magic next, and it's already going to be a fairly tedious lesson. Better to get it over and done with as quickly as possible."

Magnus laughs softly and nods. "It could be fun." He argues, diplomatically.

Lily flicks her robe. "Or boring."

Magnus waves goodbye to Catarina, who waves back, and Ragnor, who makes a vaguely nodding gesture in response and turns in the opposite direction, to Charms.

After his first introductory lesson into schooling at Hogwarts, Magnus has hope that History of Magic will contain a sliver of normalcy. History is history, sometimes it's weird, or a little messed up, but in the end it's facts. Not magic.

Facts are, at least, something he's dealt with before.

 

* * *

 

Professor Flitwick is a bright man with a wide smile and wise eyes. He's also about the size of a goblin, though thankfully a lot nicer than any Alec has ever met before.

"Welcome, First Years!"

Alec shares an amused glance with Jace as they take their seats. The joy radiating off the wizard is enthralling. They're already aware of a few spells taught in Charms, the more simplistic ones, _Accio_ , _Incendio_ and _Alohomora_. Their parents, when home, partake in using spells to do pretty much everything.

The chance to learn how to properly perform them, however, is exciting.

He instructs them to open up their copies of _The Standard Book of Spells_ \- they're not going too in-depth in their first lesson, but Professor Flitwick does outline what they will be learning across the semester.

They set into pairs, to run through a few light pronuciation exercises.

"When it comes to spells, and Charms especially," Professor Flitwick explains. "It is vitally important that every syllable is articulated clearly."

Alec pairs up with Jace, a decision with is made through silent, almost telepathic communication. One glance.

The first spell they work on is a levitating spell, which Alec has an easier time grasping than Jace.

"How is this so _easy_ for you?" Jace grumbles, staring at the diagram in his textbook. It's outlined clear enough in the book, yet whenever he tries to say it aloud, Professor Flitwick shakes his head almost sympathetically and suggests he try again.

Alec, however, has no problem. In fact, he's already been given a feather and permission to use his wand to practice the spell. Not that Jace is annoyed that his brother is better at a subject than he is, at all.

"The same way, I assume, flying on the broom was for you." Alec replies, trying to remain deadpanned and disguise his amusement.

He points the tip of his wand at the pearly white feather, and moves it in a _swish-and-flick_ motion, whispering: _"Wingardium Leviosa."_

The feather lifts and dances a few inches above the tabletop, before floating back down again.

Jace attempts to repeat the pronunciation, though he hasn't even made it half-way through before Alec groans and shakes his head.

"It's Wingardium Levi-oo-sa, not Wingardium Levio-sa." Alec explains. He catches sight of Professor Flitwick smiling, even as he helps Simon with the handling of his wand.

Almost like he's proud of Alec.

Which is a weird thing to admit to himself, to acknowledge, because Alec hasn't really been in a situation where anyone - excluding his siblings who don't count on the grounds of they're closely related to him and are therefore biased - are openly proud of him.

(His parents don't count either, because receiving pride from them is as rare as having a dragon for a pet.)

He brushes it off and turns his attention back towards Jace, who's frowning frustratedly at Alec's feather.

"Not everyone can be good at everything, Jace." Alec mutters, fighting off a grin.

Jace reponds by glaring heatedly at him. Perhaps Charms will actually be a class where Alec is good enough to teach others, where he's deserving of praise and proud smiles, not given it out of pity or obligation.

 

* * *

 

"Why are kids horrible to each other?" Magnus mutters.

He, Catarina and Ragnor are lying on the lawns after their afternoon classes. His first day has been interesting, to say the least, but there's one thing that he can't seem to get out of his mind. A nagging thought itching at the walls of his mind and refusing to let him push it away.

"Is this about the whole 'mudblood' fiasco?" Ragnor asks, looking up from his copy of _A Beginner's Guide to Transfiguration._

"Did someone call you by that horrible taunt again?" Catarina asks. "I'll dump a load of squirming slugs in their bed."

Magnus laughs softly. He's grateful that they're still able to be friends, to hang out, despite being in different houses - though he is being a little generous in labelling Ragnor as a friend so early.

"I appreciate the very tempting threat, but thankfully nothing of the sort has happened." He frowns, and adds: "But that's my point. Why use it in the first place?"

"Some people are just toxic, and get a sick-kick out of bullying others." Catarina replies, placing a gentle hand on Magnus' shoulder. "Try not to let it get to you."

"It's because I was born in a world without magic, right?" Magnus asks. "Because I'm, because I'm different."

He can't help but think of what Lily had said, at dinner his first night, and during their first flying lesson. Although he does consider her at least something _close_ to a friend, her clear surprise had still been sharp enough to hurt.

And then being called a 'mudblood' - the implication bright as sunrise, that his blood is impure and unclean and _dirty_...

"You were right," He tells Ragnor, thinking about the aftermath of Sebastian's taunting comments during their flying lesson. "The Lightwood's are snobby, far too concerned with themselves than with others."

Though he doesn't say it, he's talking more about the dark-haired one, Alec, than his brother. The blond - Jace - had at least begun to stand up against Sebastian. Alec hadn't even spared him a single glance.

Hadn't spared a second to acknowledge him, even give him a chance.

"I hate to sound as pretentious as them," Ragnor's gaze is unwavering, though carrying with it an air of boredom. "But I did warn you."

Catarina purses her mouth. She looks, conflicted. Not that Magnus can see what there is to be conflicted about, the situation had seemed pretty clear-cut to him. And he _was_ there.

"I don't agree with what happened," Catarina adds, after a moment of calm silence. "And I truly believe that Sebastian is an absolute prat, and a-"

"He's a horned toad." Ragnor contributes quietly.

"Right," Catarina nods in gratitude. "However, we don't know why Alec didn't protest Sebastian's actions-"

"Because he's just as bad," Magnus cuts in. "Those who just, just stand by and _watch_ as the bullies inflict their pain ... I've been in that kind of situation before. It's not fun, and I'm sorry if I can't just forgive a guy who would ignore someone talking to him-"

Catarina frowns. Maybe she hadn't seen everything that Magnus had, hadn't seen Alec completely ignore the Hufflepuff boy beside him.

Magnus learnt a long time ago, that first impressions often reflect more of a person's actual personality than their long-term behaviour. He also grew up relying on only his instincts to guide him, because he couldn't afford to trust anything else.

His first impression of Alec Lightwood is that he's a privileged jerk, and Magnus has no time for such people.

"Let's talk about something happier," He suggests. There's only so much emotional thought he can handle before he needs a distraction.

"Do you know what Quidditch is?" Ragnor asks, a flat hand resting on his textbook. He appears completely enrapt in the conversation now, which is ... interesting, to say the least.

"I've heard it mentioned, here and there." Magnus admits. "But I don't really understand what it is."

And hence, they spend the rest of their afternoon discussing Quidditch, and Magnus feels warm and giddy inside, though he doesn't mention it, the conversation having chased away the cold that talking about Sebastian and his taunts had created.

 

* * *

 

"I mean, it was a bit rude, don't you think?"

Alec fights down the urge to snap at Simon. He can practically hear Isabelle's chiding voice in his head - despite her never having met him - telling him to breathe, and relax. All he wants to do is eat his dinner, not discuss how reportedly 'horrible' of a person they think he is.

"What does that word..." Clary pauses.

"Mudblood." Jace fills in, scowling.

"That." Clary smiles in gratitude. "What does it mean?"

Jace's scowl deepens. Alec refuses to look up from his plate.

"It's a nasty word for people who are muggle-born," Jace explains, his gaze flitting back to Alec. "It's use is rare these days, but Sebastian is scum."

Alec sighs, and looks up. They know _of_ Sebastian, as their families tend to run in the same circles, and what little they've been around doesn't prove positive. He agrees that Sebastian isn't, to any degree, a nice person, but using names like that are what will get Jace in trouble.

"Actually," Jace continues, turning his attention to Alec. "Why _didn't_ you stand up for that Slytherin kid?"

"Magnus." Simon cuts in. His eyes widen, almost as though he hadn't even noticed himself say it at first. It could, admittedly, also be because of Alec's semi-heated glare.

Alec breathes in deeply, before replying. "Firstly, it's none of my business. Sebastian wasn't talking to me. And secondly, if things had of escalated and caught Madam Hooch's attention, it wouldn't have been good for anyone."

"So you'll just stand by and _watch_ as someone gets bullied?" Jace asks, exasperatedly. "Alec-"

"I'm sure that Magnus can handle himself," Alec stands his ground. He's seen Magnus around, and in class, and he seems perfectly capable of fighting back if he thinks that's his best option.

He doesn't seem like he needs other people to step in for him.

(Alec also thinks that Magnus shows off too much and walks with a tad too much flair, as though he's searching for attention, but that's not a matter for this conversation. Jace would just tell him that he's just jealous because he prefers to skim through life unnoticed.)

"I don't care whether it gets me in trouble," Jace crosses his arms. "I refuse to watch someone being bullied. It's sad that you will."

He stands up from the table, and huffs off. Alec wants to go after him, talk to him, but he doesn't think it's a good idea. Jace just needs a little time to blow off steam and calm down. This matter will be forgotten by tomorrow, anyway.

Surprisingly, Clary also stands up.

"I'll see you at breakfast, Si." She says, smiling apologetically. Simon nods, and with a fleeting glance at Alec and a wave to both of them, she walks off in the direction that Jace had fled.

Alec still stands by his point. He doesn't even know Magnus, it's none of his business. Jace is just the kind of person to jump in first and ask questions later, unlike Alec, who plans and prepares and explores all possibilites.

Jace would readily throw a punch during somebody else's fight, regardless of who they are. And if Alec hadn't of stopped him, Sebastian would probably be walking around with a shiny black eye, and Jace stuck with a reprimand for a situation that had nothing to do with him.

Isabelle would probably have done the same thing, but that's - that's just not Alec.

He doesn't know Magnus. For all he's aware of, he could be just as much of an ass, or more, than Sebastian is.

There's a letter sitting on Isabelle's bed. Clearly addressed to her in achingly familiar handwriting.

It's only taken Alec a week to write to her. Even Jace had sent her a letter, telling her about how much he loves Hogwarts, and what Gryffindor is like, the coziness of the common room and how good the food is - all naturally important things for Jace to inform her about.

He had steered clear of mentioning Alec, though, which had surprised her. Now that she's finally gotten her letter from Alec, she's less surprised and increasingly more suspicious. It isn't like him to ignore her.

She makes sure that her door is securely locked, not wanting her parents or one of the house elves to interrupt. This is her time, the only chance she has to reassure herself of the relationship she and her brother have, the only chance they have at communication whilst he's so far away.

Isabelle clambers onto her bed, sitting cross-legged against her fluffy pillows. She wonders, idly as she opens the pristine white envelope, what could have happened to Alec to create this distance between them, why he's waited so long to send this letter.

 

_Iz,_

_How are you doing? It feels weird to be somewhere you're not. Jace is twice as insufferable when I have to deal with him by myself._

_I'm sorry I haven't written earlier, classes have been taking up a lot of my time, and half of my day is spent trying to either not get lost, or when I do, find my way back. You'd tell me I need to get a better handle of my surroundings ... and you're probably right._

_You'd also tell me to make friends, I suppose, which - I'm trying to. There's this one kid, Simon - he's a muggle-born, very loud and he talks too fast, but he's - well, he's okay._

_Jace got sorted into Gryffindor, which I'm sure you already know. I didn't._

Isabelle can sense the hesitation in his writing, his own disappointment. It causes a ache within her, because of more than just missing him.

_I was sorted into Hufflepuff. I know we're suppossed to, you know, trust the Sorting Hat, and it's sole purpose is basically to sort wizards and witches ... and it's a nice House. The common room is quite warm and cozy, a lot of comfy couches and ... there's a lot of_ yellow _, Iz. The black is fine but ... yellow._

 

She laughs to herself, imagining his shudder.

_I think Jace is jealous that it's next to the kitchens, you know how much he loves eating. It does fill the hallways with a nice smell, though. Simon keeps making comments about sneaking down for midnight snacks, but I don't think he's really brave enough to do it. He also keeps talking about things that only he knows about._

_We were at our first flying practice, and he said that he thought only 'smelly witches with warts on their noses and black cats rode broomsticks', then he mentioned something else, he called it 'Looney Tunes' but I don't know what he was talking about._

 

Despite his words, Isabelle thinks that Alec is a little fond of Simon.

_The classes are interesting, too. I think my favourite so far is Charms - Jace got annoyed our first lesson because I got further in the lesson than he did. Professor Flitwick let me practice_ Wingardium Leviosa _on a feather, before any of the other students._

 

Her heart warms with pride.

_I have to end the letter here, I have some homework for Potions I need done. I'll try not to leave too much space between letters from now on. I hope everything is good at home. How is Max doing? Tell him I said hello, I know he probably won't understand, but - I really miss him._

_If you don't mind, Iz, please - please don't tell Mom and Dad. About my being in Hufflepuff. At least, not yet. Thanks._

_Love, Alec._

 

Isabelle finishes reading the letter and lets out a soft sigh. She doesn't agree with her brother's decision to keep his house a secret from their parents, it's not like they're going to disown him for _not_ being in Gryffindor.

But he's her older brother, and she loves him and respects him, so she won't mention anything. At least, not yet. For him.

Hufflepuff sounds like a wonderful house. Caring, inclusive, supportive. Alec's probably unsure of it because he's never really had that surrounding him. Jace and herself have always been kind and supportive, but the same can't really be said for their parents.

There is also Max, their younger brother, but he's two, so the most he can give is a giggly smile.

She _knows_ Alec, like the back of her hand. His problem won't really be with Hufflepuff, but with what others will think about him being a part of that House. He's always been more concerned with what others, his parents, his siblings, think of him.

And he doesn't deal very well with change.

She just hopes that he'll grow to love his house. A lot of incredible witches and wizards have come from Hufflepuff: Newt Scamander, for one. Alec is sure to be no exception. He just needs to accept his House and use it to help him, instead of letting it drag him down.

For not the first time, Isabelle wishes she was older, already at Hogwarts with Alec and Jace, not stuck in an otherwise empty house.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What can I say? Everybody has their flaws.
> 
> there is a line in here taken/adapted from Wicked by Gregory Maguire because I think it fits.
> 
> "At it's most elemental, a spell is no more than a recipe for change" she would flute at them. But when the chicken she tried to turn into a piece of toast became instead a mess of used coffee grounds cupped in a lettuce leafe, the students all made a mental note never to accept an invitation to dine with her."
> 
> (also I just really like that line.)


	4. Your House Does Not Define You

_Alec,_

_I'm doing fine. It's odd not to have you at home. Mum and Dad would never admit it, but I think they miss you and Jace. The house is quiet without you. Although that's probably more down to Jace than you._

_I understand. It's okay. I'm glad you've made some friends. Jace mentioned someone called Clary—what's she like? Simon sounds so cool! I've always wanted to know someone from the muggle world. You have to find out about it!_

_Hufflepuff is an amazing house, Alec. You shouldn't be so worried. Look at the kind of people who came out of Hufflepuff. Newt Scamander? Cedric Diggory? More than one Minister For Magic?You'll be just as great as them. I won't tell Mum and Dad, but I really don't think they'll mind. They love you, and it's not up to you which house you get into._

_Tell me more about the lessons! I can't wait to come to Hogwarts. It sounds incredible. Mum and Dad want to know what Professor McGonagall is like as headmistress—because they were at school with Dumbledore as head, but they still knew her, I suppose. So when you write to them, tell them about her._

_Max is as adorable as ever. I'll take a photo with him and put it on the back of the letter._

_I love you, and I'm so proud of you._

_Love, Izzy_

***

On Monday morning, Alec wakes to the realisation that his first full week at Hogwarts is about to begin.

Isabelle's letter is sitting on his bed, and he smiles as he reads it. He turns the paper over, and sees an photograph of Isabelle leaning over Max. Max is gurgling, a smile on his little face, and Isabelle is waving at the camera brightly.

He slips it in his bedside drawer, and exhales as he pulls his robes on, silent amidst the morning banter of the other boys in his dormitory. His thoughts are on his parents—and, specifically, what they'll think about his house.

Maybe Isabelle is right. Maybe they won't care.

Or maybe they will. Maybe they'll compare him to Jace. All-golden, Gryffindor, future-Quidditch-star, head-boy-material Jace.

God, he sounds so bitter.

"Are you okay?" Simon asks, snapping Alec from his thoughts.

"What?" Alec glances over at him. "I'm fine. Can we go?"

"Yeah." Simon looks suddenly excited. "You know we've got Defence Against the Dark Arts first thing? I hope we actually do something today. Last lesson was a bit slow."

Alec knows what Simon means. In their first lesson, all they'd done was go through the basics of what they'd be doing over the course of the year, and listened to Professor Aldertree talk about how essential his subject is to the world. Which Alec doesn't disagree with, but still.

"Me too," is all Alec says in agreement, before he walks towards the door, leaving Simon gaping.

"Did you just agree with me?"

***

"Oi."

A wand pokes into Magnus' side, and he jerks up from where he'd been slouching over his breakfast, blinking rapidly. Lily is glaring pointedly at him, and he looks blankly at her. She huffs.

"Are you awake? Did you sleep at all last night?"

The truthful answer to that is _no_. There'd been a lightening storm raging when he'd climbed into bed, and Magnus despises thunder and lightening, and then he'd been unable to stop thinking about how utterly overwhelming Hogwarts is, and then Sebastian had woken up, and given him a look that made Magnus shudder.

Sleep hadn't really been on the cards.

"No," Magnus says, "not really. I was having an existential crisis."

Catarina, sitting opposite them, clucks her tongue in sympathy. "Poor you. Lily and I were just talking about the Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher. Professor Aldertree."

Magnus shrugs. "I don't really know what I think about him. He didn't exactly do very much last lesson."

"You've got him this morning, though, haven't you?"

"Yeah." Magnus glances behind Catarina, at the Hufflepuff table, where he can see both Lightwoods. _Alec_ , to his surprise, is actually talking to the brown haired boy - Simon, Magnus found out his name is - rather than blatantly ignoring him. "With the Hufflepuffs."

"We had it with the Gryffindors," Ragnor says, rolling his eyes. "Be grateful. That Lightwood is an insufferable git. He's so arrogant. I wanted to shove my wand up his nostril."

Magnus chokes around a mouthful of toast, and Lily smacks him on the back.

"He can't be worse than the other one," Magnus says, with distaste. " _Alec_."

Ragnor shrugs. "At least that Lightwood doesn't open his mouth very often. The blonde one makes me want to escape into a room of mandrakes."

"I think that's a little excessive, Ragnor," Catarina says. "Although I have to say I agree. At least Alec doesn't do that infuriating smirk all the time."

Magnus rolls his eyes. "No, he's just a coward."

"We get it." Lily snatches the remainder of his toast from his hand, and Magnus makes a sound of protest. "You don't like him. I don't like either of them. They're both Lightwoods. They're both stupid. Can we be done with this conversation?"

Magnus glares at her, and picks up her cup to drink her orange juice.

"Hey!" Lily narrows her eyes. "Stop drinking my juice."

"You ate my toast!"

"And you drank my juice!"

"Yeah, but only after you _ate my—_ "

"Oh my god, shut up!"

Both of them turn to look at Ragnor. He shakes his head. "How old are you?"

"Eleven," Magnus and Lily reply, in exactly the same deadpan voice.

Ragnor looks like he's about to strangle them.

***

Professor Aldertree smiles at them as they walk into the lesson, with gleaming white teeth, dressed in a perfectly pressed suit rather than robes. He's shuffling papers on his desk, and Alec can't help but wonder whether they're for show.

"Take a seat," Aldertree says, as they file in. "You won't be sitting down for long, so don't get comfy. I want wands out, books away, and no fussing."

Simon drops his bag on the ground by a desk with a thud. Alec shoots him an incredulous look. What the heck has he got in there?

Alec feels eyes on him as he sits down beside Simon, and he frowns a little, the hairs on the back of his neck rising. He chances a glance behind him. Bane is sitting a row behind him, a little to the right; he looks away the moment Alec turns, but Alec sees his nostrils flare as he glares straight ahead.

"What's his problem?" Simon mutters, and Alec realises that Simon has followed his gaze to Magnus.

Alec shrugs, while guilt tugs, dark and nasty, in his gut, as his mind wanders to Jace's accusations a mere handful of days ago. Maybe he should have said something, when Sebastian had called the kid a mudblood. It's not exactly something heard in any sort of civilised conversation, after all.

But then he hears Magnus laughing, loud enough to just verge on obnoxious, and he rolls his eyes, the guilt dissipating. Clearly, he's the kind of person who can take care of himself. Jace just likes playing the hero, even when it's entirely unwarranted, and especially when it's a bad idea.

And, Alec is absolutely certain, making an enemy of Sebastian Morgenstern is a terrible idea.

Professor Aldertree claps his hands once, and silence descends over the classroom, anticipation hovering over them in a thick cloud. Aldertree waves his wand, once, and three diagrams appear on the board in chalk, the word _Lumos_ written and underlined at the top. Alec recognises the text beneath as copied from _The Dark Forces: A Guide to Self-Protection_. If he'd spent an hour or two pouring over the textbook after he'd visited Diagon Alley with his parents in the summer, nobody had to know but him.

"Without cheating," Aldertree says, moving to stand in front of the board, "can anybody tell me what the effect of this incantation will be?"

"It lights up the tip of your wand, sir," Sebastian says, from where he's sitting right at the back of the classroom, beside a girl who looks so similar to him she could be his sister. Blonde hair, a lingering smirk that doesn't seem to disappear, and an air of arrogance that not even Jace could achieve.

"Yes, Mr Morgenstern," Aldertree says, with a sharp, neutral nod.

He spends the next fifteen minutes explaining the spell's uses (although that seems fairly self-explanatory, to Alec), it's history, reciting the incantation with them, and then he demonstrates.

"And," he says, holding his wand up, "to extinguish? Does anybody know?"

"Nox," Alec says, quietly.

"Indeed. _Nox_." The light from Aldertree's wand disappears. "Now, I want you in pairs, at a desk, practising. This is the most straightforward spell you'll do all year, so I want everyone to have it mastered by next week. You've got half an hour. If you get it, show me, and then–" He raps the board once with his wand tip "–have a head start on the homework."

Aldertree smiles at them again, and Alec can't quite decide whether or not it's genuine.

"One more thing," he says, the smile not leaving his face, "I want you working with someone from the other house."

Alec glowers at him. He hates it when teachers do that.

***

One minute, Magnus is sitting beside Lily, heaving himself out of his seat to find someone to work with, and the next, there's a hand on his back, and he's being shoved, and he's face-to-face with Alec Lightwood.

"What—" Alec's eyes go wide, and he takes a sharp step backwards, flushing. "Sorry."

Magnus is too busy turning his head to glare at Lily to acknowledge the fact that the Lightwoods do, apparently, know about Ps and Qs, even if they're too entitled to use them sincerely.

"Have fun," Lily, winking at him as she waltzes off.

"I hate you," he mutters. He glances back at Alec, who's standing stock-still, watching the exchange with confusion in his eyes. "Well." Magnus clears his throat, and tries not to roll his eyes at Alec's mere existence. "Looks like we're working together."

Alec blinks. "We—?"

"Look, Lightwood, I know you don't like me, and I don't really like you, either, so let's get this over with and try not to talk too much, hm?"

Alec blinks again. Magnus reigns in the urge to smack him.

"Okay. Fine. Let's– Yeah."

Magnus spins on his heel to move to an empty desk. This time, he does roll his eyes, so hard he's slightly concerned they won't go back to their normal place. They've barely exchanged two sentences, and already he can't wait to get back to Lily. He's going to kill her for this.

Alec shifts awkwardly beside him as they stand as far away from each other as possible, and studiously avoid eye-contact. Both of them pretend to be reading the information on the board, exceptionally slowly. Several other pairs, Magnus notices, are doing the same thing.

Apparently, Professor Aldertree realises this too.

"Twenty-five minutes!" he calls across the classroom. "Hurry up, get working! I haven't seen any light yet!"

Magnus glances at Alec out of the corner of his eye; Alec is licking his lips, gaze fixated on his wand as he rolls it between his fingers in clear agitation.

"Oh, for god's sake," Magnus huffs, because really, this is ridiculous. "Lumos."

As he's come to expect, because apparently this whole magic thing is pretty difficult, nothing happens.

Part of him expects Alec to make a comment, or snort, or throw him some superior expression. But he doesn't. He watches Magnus' wand, but he doesn't even look at Magnus himself.

 _Figures_ , Magnus thinks.

"Lumos," Alec says. To Magnus' immense irritation, his wand pulses, once, with a dim glow, before it fizzles out within a moment.

It takes Magnus three tries to get it. He can't contain his cry of triumph when his wand lights up, although he's not the first person in the room to do it.

"Nox," he says, confidently, and grins when the light disappears—

Only to scowl, when he realises that Alec's wand is also alight.

***

"He's just so annoying!" Magnus rants later that day, over dinner, to Lily and Catarina, while Ragnor pointedly ignores them. "He's so...judgemental. And pretentious."

"What exactly did he say to you?" Catarina asks, with an air of disinterested enquiry.

"He doesn't have to say anything," Magnus says, jamming his fork in a potato. "You can just feel it. It's so obvious."

Lily snorts beside him.

"What?" Magnus demands.

She shrugs. "Well, he's a Lightwood, so of course he's pretentious and judgemental. They're all the same. But he's not evil personified."

"I could make a case for it," Magnus mutters darkly.

"Lily's right," Catarina says. "He's really not worth this much anxiety. If he's bothering you that much, don't talk to him. It's not like he's particularly..."

Magnus quirks an eyebrow at her. "Friendly? Personable? Chatty? Nice?"

"Extroverted."

Catarina's diplomacy makes Magnus scoff. Ragnor turns the page of his book loudly, and shakes his head.

"More importantly," Lily says, "who's going to the Quidditch trials?"

Magnus raises both eyebrows. "Really, Lily? I sucked at flying."

Lily shrugs. "More chance for me, then. Catarina? Ragnor?"

"No," they reply, in unison, Ragnor with a distinct note of boredom in his voice.

"What's the point?" Catarina asks. "First years never make the team."

"Harry Potter did," Lily says pointedly, with a smirk.

Magnus sets his fork down, because he's heard that name so many times. More times than he's heard Dumbledore's name. That one had been fairly easy to work out—everything he needed to know was on the back of a Chocolate Frog card.

"Someone, please, tell me who that is," Magnus begs them. "Why do people keep going on about him? Who is he? Or who was he? Is he dead?"

Catarina, Ragnor and Lily all exchange looks. After a moment, Ragnor and Lily burst out laughing; Catarina smiles at Magnus.

"No," she says. "He's not dead. He's...basically a wizarding hero..."

***

It's freezing outside when Alec trudges out to meet Jace after the Gryffindor trials. He's not exactly sure why either of them are bothering to try out, because, surely, they both know they won't be on the team.

(Well. He suspects that Jace is probably confident enough to think he has a shot. Alec merely quite likes the thoughts of being able to fly for a bit, after that awful lesson with Magnus, this morning.)

"Alec!" Jace is grinning, and waves manically to him from where he's standing with Clary.

Clary looks less than ecstatic to be there, arms crossed, hugging herself against the cold. She's dressed in school robes and a Gryffindor scarf, so, clearly, she didn't try out. She's so tiny, Alec wonders how she'd be able to stay on a broom above twenty feet. The wind would knock her off, surely?

"Alec!" Jace yells again, impatience tingeing his voice.

Clary jabs Jace in the ribs with her elbow. He winces, pouts at her, and rubs at where she nudged him. "What was that for?"

"That was for being an idiot," she says, and turns to smile tentatively at Alec. "Hi. Trying out?"

He shrugs. "Apparently."

Jace is still grinning like an idiot, so Alec glances over at him.

"Guess what?" Jace asks, quivering with excitement, bouncing up and down on the balls of his feet. "Alec, guess what happened."

Alec looks at Clary, who shakes her head in exasperation. There's a smile twitching at her lips that betrays her, though, and, once again, Alec can't help but like her, no matter how much something in him wants to find her irritating.

"What?" he asks. "Wait, you didn't—?"

"No," Jace says, but he still looks like someone told him he can meet Harry Potter tomorrow. "But Emma told me that if they need a reserve beater, I'll be on the list of people to ask. Like, really."

Alec raises his eyebrows, and catches sight of Julian, the Hufflepuff captain, tugging his gloves on as he strides across the ground. He kisses Emma on the cheek as he passes her, and whispers something in her ear that makes her scoff at him. "Seriously?"

"Seriously. And she told me to practise, and come back next year."

"That's great, Jace," Alec tells him, with a smile. Because it is, and he has absolutely no doubt in his mind that Jace is perfectly capable of making the team in a few years - or next year, frankly - and becoming an amazing player.

He has more reservations about his own abilities.

***

Alec knows, the moment he's up in the air, that he's not going to be doing anything noteworthy this evening. Everyone around him, save for the two Hufflepuff girls in his year, is taller than him, and stronger than him, and, most likely, far more practised than him. He's played garden Quidditch. They've all trained.

Julian's whistle is sharp, and his voice cuts through the air as he hollers out instructions, using his wand to amplify his voice when a group of third years start chatting. He divides them into groups, and begins putting them through drills.

Alec has never done Quidditch drills before. Most of the others clearly have.

"Catch!" someone yells at him, snapping him out of his errant thoughts as a ball flies towards him.

He blinks, eyes locking onto the Quaffle as it descends. He leans forward slightly, broom surging forward, and rolls to snatch it up, before he tosses it to the next person.

Julian is watching him from where he's hovering in the air several metres away, with narrowed eyes. Alec flushes a little, glancing down at where he's gripping his broom handle, before he looks back to Julian. This time, the older boy has a smile on his face, before he turns his attention to the others.

They're divided again, this time into two. Alec finds himself beside a boy who has to be in the sixth or seventh year with ridiculously broad shoulders and an intimidating height. When he spots Alec, though, he offers him a half-hearted smile.

Julian gives the other group an optimistic speech that ultimately ends with them all being sent off. They all look disappointed, but they touch down without a fuss, several of the girls giggling as they ditch their brooms and take seats in the stands to watch, where a few of the Gryffindors, including Emma, Jace, and Clary, are already sitting.

The rest of the trial is considerably more intricate. Julian splits them off into groups again, this time putting them through game scenarios, calling out instructions as they fly rather than watching quietly.

Alec looks down at Jace and Clary, as he hovers in the air, waiting for his turn to pass the Quaffle with another two players down the pitch in an attempt to score against the fierce girl hovering in front of the goalposts. Jace gives him the thumbs up.

By the time Julian blows his whistle for the final time, and tells them all to land, Alec's managed to score a few times, and, while he's certain he hasn't made the team, he can't help but smile. It was fun, if a little intimidating, to fly on a full-size pitch, with lots of other people.

Alec isn't disappointed when Julian doesn't tell him he's made the team. He turns, about to head over to where Jace and Clary are, when a hand rests on his shoulder, stopping him.

"You flew really well," Julian tells him, with one of those gentle, encouraging smiles of his. "I hope you know that."

Alec flushes again. "Thank you."

"I want to see you again, next year. And I want you to practise."

"Okay. I will."

Julian purses his lips. His eyes flicker over to where the other Hufflepuffs are dispersing off, most forming into groups of friends, before redirecting his gaze onto Alec.

"You could have been sorted into any house, you know," Julian says, abruptly, making Alec do a double-take.

"I'm sorry?"

"The Sorting Hat picks out your best, your strongest qualities. It sorts people in a basic, superficial sort of way. Being sorted into Gryffindor doesn't mean you're brave but moronic. Being sorted into Slytherin doesn't mean you're ambitious but heartless. Ravenclaws aren't all emotionally-stunted geniuses. And we're not kind but stupid."

Alec can't find words to reply. He stares up at Julian, who's watching him with an intense expression on his face.

"Just because you come from a family of Gryffindors, does not mean you are someone other because you were sorted into Hufflepuff. It does not mean that you lack every quality that made your family Gryffindors. You can still be brave, and daring, and do great things that take great courage." Julian ducks his head a little. "Alec, being in Hufflepuff doesn't make you weak, or lesser, or less capable. It means you're hard-working, and fair, and loyal to those you love. And those all sound like strengths, to me."

Alec feels his jaw go slack. How on earth does Julian know that Alec's worried about being in Hufflepuff? Is it really that obvious? Does he stick out that much?

"I— How did you—?"

"Because my family have all been in Ravenclaw for as long as anyone can remember. With the occasional Slytherin dotted in along the way. And I felt exactly the same way you do."

For a moment, Alec just looks at him. Then he swallows, and nods. "Thank you."

"You're welcome." Julian squeezes his shoulder briefly, before he steps away, the conversation clearly over. He calls over his shoulder, "And I'm serious about practising, by the way!"

And Alec...

Alec grins.

***

"Are you gonna tell me what Julian said?" Jace asks, for the millionth time, while they walk through the castle, after changing back into their robes in the changing rooms.

"Nope."

"Why?"

"Because."

"Because what?"

"Just because."

"But—"

"Shut up," Clary tells them, firmly. "You sound like you're five years old."

Jace huffs. "I want to know! Can you blame me? Don't you want to know?"

Clary raises her eyebrows. "Yes, of course, but I also understand the meaning of no, and I respect Alec's personal boundaries."

Jace gapes at her like some kind of oxygen-deprived fish. Alec snickers.

"I'm going to find out," Jace declares.

The sigh Clary releases is long-suffering. "And how, exactly, are you going to do that?"

"Julian will tell Emma, because they're dating, and I'll ask Emma, and she'll tell me because I'm too awesome to resist."

"Somehow, I think that plan is going to backfire," Clary says. She pats his arm. "Good luck."

They reach the branch in the corridor, where Alec turns the other way to head down to the Hufflepuff common room. He's exhausted, and his thighs ache from flying for so long and so much harder than he's used to, and he really, really wants to tumble into bed and sleep for ten hours.

"Goodnight, Alec," Clary says.

"Night." Jace's sentiment is considerably more sulky and less sincere than Clary's.

"Goodnight, both of you," Alec says. "See you in the morning."

After a final chorus of goodnights, the three of them part ways. Alec yawns out the password to the common room, and forces himself up the stairs to bed, weaving his way through over-excited third and fourth years playing Exploding Snap, and a group of frustrated students that are probably twice his size, pouring over textbooks in silence, chewing on the ends of their quills.

Four boys are already asleep, when Alec gets into his dormitory, and the other three beds are empty. Simon is snoring lightly in his bed beside Alec's, glasses sliding down his nose awkwardly, a book slipping from his fingers. Alec huffs out a laugh; he takes Simon's book, marking the page, pulls his glasses off gently, and sets both down on Simon's beside table.

He then strips out of his robes, wrestles into his pyjamas, and sits down on his own bed. Sitting cross-legged, he pulls out a roll of parchment and a quill, yanks the curtains around his bed shut to give himself some privacy, and looks down at the empty sheet.

 _Dear Mum and Dad_ , he writes, and then pauses, teeth clamping down on his lower lip nervously as he considers - or, rather, panics about - what on earth he can say.

His mind strays back to Julian, earlier, nothing but honesty and compassion in his voice, telling Alec that it was okay, and that his house didn't define him—rather, his house pointed to his strongest, but by no means his only, attributes and traits.

He's been sorted into Hufflepuff. And Hufflepuff has produced some fantastic wizards and witches. Julian's right—he can still be brave, and courageous, and all the Gryffindor qualities he's expected to have. God, he can still be smart and ambitious, too.

But he's a Hufflepuff. Not a Gryffindor.

And that's okay. It doesn't make him any less worthy.

So, with Julian's words ringing like a mantra in his ears, he begins to write.


	5. Moving Forward

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Magnus comes face to face with reality in many forms, and more people have Alec's back than he realises.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this is a little late! I've had a bit of a frantic week. I hope you enjoy!!

Alec sleeps better that night for the first time since he came to Hogwarts. When he wakes up, he _figuratively_ feels better.

Physically, there's a heavy weight on his chest, which turns out to be Simon's copies of _A Standard Book of Spells_ and _Encyclopedia of Toadstools._

"Simon," He draws out, groggily. "Why are your textbooks on my chest?"

Simon's head pops up, glasses askew, on the side of his own bed. "Well, see, I lost my wand-"

Alec has just woken up and he's already sighing at Simon. What a good start to the day. At least they're mostly alone, the only other boy in their room an extremely heavy sleeper - which is good because Simon is loud and Alec groans a lot in his presence.

"And I didn't want to lose the textbooks too, so I put them..."

Alec moves the textbooks to the end of the bed and sits up. "On my chest. Merlin's Beard, Simon, how could you lose your wand?"

Simon mumbles something inaudible, but before Alec can ask him to repeat it, he pops up from beneath his bed triumphantly, smiling widely. "I found it!"

Alec rolls his eyes, and swings his legs off the bed. "Where was it?"

Simon sheepishly fiddles with his wand and mutters something beneath his breath, refusing to look Alec in the eye. Alec picks up his robe, flattening out the odd kink or wrinkle - they have a few minutes to spare before Alec will reach his limit and force Simon out the door.

He's still trying to figure out how Simon could have possibly lost something so ... large and pointy - when Simon admits, his cheeks alight with embarrassment: "It was stuck between my mattress."

Alec doesn't sigh again, because there's still the rest of the day waiting for them, and the poor kid probably deserves a small reprieve. They have Charms up first anyway, so Alec's attention will most likely be directed towards Jace, because he's still a little thrilled that there is something the golden-boy _isn't_ good at.

"You need a spell to, like, attatch it to your person or something." Alec declares, because Simon's penchant for losing things scares him a little.

"They have those?" Simon asks in astonishment. Alec forgets sometimes, that Simon wasn't brought up with magic. He doesn't know when Alec's joking.

"No, Simon." Alec straightens the covers of his own bed, and ensures that his has his own wand. "But I'll make one, just for you."

"Like those w _rite-your-own-rules_ cards they have in Uno?" And there Simon goes again, blabbering about muggle things. It's honestly like speaking another language as far as Alec is concerned.

"Come on," Alec, somewhat forcefully, shoves Simon's textbooks at his chest. "I'm hungry."

Deep down, Alec doesn't think that Simon is that bad of a kid. He's just ... a lot.

 

* * *

 

_Dear Mum and Dad..._

Isabelle knows that reading a letter addressed to her parents is inappropriate, to say the least. But in her defence, she practically tripped on it outside her mother's study. It's folded and a little crinkled, and on the back there's a smudge of dust - it's clear that they'd both read the letter, but apparently didn't care about the contents.

So, because Isabelle does care, she slips the letter into the pocket of her dressing gown, and waits until she's alone in the privacy of her bedroom to fold it open.

Alec tells their parents about being sorted into Hufflepuff, about how at first he was a little nervous, but he's really beginning to like his house, and his housemates. He relays what had happened at Quidditch trials, how the Hufflepuff Captain had encouraged him to train and come back next year - how he was surprised to find out how much he enjoyed it.

How he liked his classes, and he was progressing well through Charms and Defence Against The Dark Arts. Isabelle would like to think that her parents would, at the very least, be pleased by that news.

Apparently not.

Isabelle can't exactly reply to this letter, as Alec will know, then, that their parents had basically threw away his letter. Sometimes Isabelle wishes they were more caring - she doesn't hate them or anything, she just disapproves of their actions, most of the time.

How they could push aside their own child because of where he was sorted, baffles her completely. She has complete and utter faith that Alec will do wonderfully at Hogwarts, no matter what house he's in - she knows that Hufflepuff is a perfectly wonderful house, and they're lucky to have her brother.

Her parents probably just need some time to get used to the fact that Alec isn't in the house they all presumed he'd be sorted into. They seem to forget, sometimes, that blood doesn't mean everything - a wizard or witch's last name doesn't predetermine where they belong.

At the very least, Alec will always have his siblings support behind him. She'll give him a week to write to her, before she sends her own. It's hard being so far from her, with little communication - Alec needs to know that she loves him, and will always stand by him, especially when their parents do not.

At least he's making friends, though. Isabelle's quite intrigued by this Simon guy - he must be interesting, considering how much Alec talks about him. Sure, it's mostly half-hearted complaints, but Isabelle gets the feeling Alec is simply too scared to let himself like Simon. Simon's different from what Alec is used to, and Alec hates change as much as Isabelle wants to be at Hogwarts.

He's giving Simon a chance, though, for which Isabelle is very proud. And he's doing well in his classes, which Isabelle had no doubt of, but is still glad to hear.

She still wishes she could be there, though.

 

* * *

 

Magnus despises Charms.

Obviously, being new to magic and all, it's not that weird for him to have trouble with some of his classes, but it's not _some_ of his classes, it's just one. Just Charms. (He doesn't count flying because he still can't believe that's even a thing he can do.)

It only took him three attempts to spell _Lumos_ in Defence Against The Dark Arts, even having to work with _Lightwood_ , and History of Magic is one of his best classes, because it's a lot of writing and remembering, and that's something he's used to. Even Potions he's okay with, because it's facts and measurements and it's all practical and straightforward.

With Charms, it all depends on the way he annunciates the spell and moves his wand and if he's off-kilter even slightly, he could end up blowing something up or worse. He doesn't know what, just - worse.

Even Herbology is an easier class - and they're currently studying a _fire-making_ spell. _Fire_ -making.

Hogwarts is supposed to be his fresh start. And he can't even cast a damn spell properly.

"If you suck at it, why don't you get, like, a tutor or something?" Lily asks.

They're walking out of Transfiguration, Magnus lamenting about how they have Charms and he doesn't want to take ten attempts to do the same spell.

"Are _you_ going to tutor me?" Magnus asks, jokingly. Lily is _almost_ as bad as he is. Not quite, but close. Definitely not her strong point.

" _That's_ funny. Lydia Branwell, you remember her, she's pretty good. Or there's Alec Lightwood-"

"I would rather stab myself in the eye with my own wand than ask that stuck-up, heartless knob-"

"Okay." Catarina stops in front of them, effectively blocking them from the rest of the hallway. "That's enough."

Magnus parts his mouth, but Catarina holds up a hand, and he promptly shuts it.

"You are being ridiculous, and childish." She states. "Alec isn't that bad of a person, which you would know, if you took the time to actually talk to him, instead of judging him based on one situation - of which you still don't even know the whole story."

Her eyes narrow, sharply. It's a little intimidating. "You complain that he's a bully. But you're no better."

She spins sharply on her heel, stalking off, her robe swishing around her feet. Magnus just stares after her, eyes wide. His heart is thuddering loudly in his chest, and his legs feel like jelly.

Lily pats his shoulder, but it's a low point of comfort. Catarina's words echo around his mind for the rest of the day.

 

* * *

 

Alec did his pre-study. He poured over his textbooks before the school year even started, as soon as they'd left Diagon Alley he'd been scribbling notes in the margins and practising theoretical spells with his hand for a wand.

He couldn't possibly have been more prepared for Hogwarts if he tried. Because he couldn't possibly have tried any harder.

And yet he still finds himself, barely two weeks in, holed up in the corner of the library with textbooks and diagrams surrounding him and a Cauldron Cake wrapped in tissue paper tucked away safely inside the pocket of his robe - the Cauldron Cake was from Simon, who insisted that Alec would need something to eat if he was going to be there for who-knows how many hours.

His biggest trouble is with Potions, which is ironic, really, because it's just another thing that divides him from the rest of his family. Potions was pretty much the only subject his parents insisted he be the top of the class in - they could care less about Charms, the one subject he's passing with flying colours, because it's not the class they were the best in.

(They haven't replied to his letter yet, but he's sure they're just busy or something. Working at the Ministry takes up a lot of their time.)

He understands the logistics of Potions. That you need a certain amount of this and a dash of that, and too much or too little will ruin the potion entirely. It's like a recipe. Except that, with recipes, Isabelle is the one that blows things up.

With potions, he's the one who destroys things.

Which has landed him with what will probably become a weekly thing if he can't get his grades up.

"Is this seat taken?"

Alec glances up in surprise. He's been in the library for a few hours now, so caught up in his textbooks, that hearing another voice startles him for a moment. There's a first-year Slytherin girl blinking at him patiently. He knows her, or rather, knows of her, the Slytherin girl who some people believe would be better suited for Ravenclaw with how hard she studies.

"No, no of course not." He moves his stuff over, so that there is more space. The girl smiles at him, kindly if a bit apprehensive.

"I'm Alec." He greets. He doesn't usually just introduce himself to, well, anyone, but she seems nice, and he's trying to open himself up more. He knows that he can come across quite nasty and closed-off, because he doesn't let people see who he is.

The Slytherin girl smiles, hesitantly. "Lydia. Lydia Branwell."

They sit there, with their own work, and it's quiet but not lonely. Alec didn't realise how secluded it could feel until he shares it with somebody else. It's kind of nice. Of course there's the possibilty that he'll say something or accidentally ignore her and then cause her to hate him, because he's apparently very good at that. He's already made one enemy being at Hogwarts, and knowing Sebastian, another one is likely soon to follow.

"Potions, huh?" Lydia asks, gently, out of the blue. Alec looks up, and nods, sheepishly. He feels awkward, admitting it, admitting that he's stuck here because he can't get the information from inside of his head onto paper or past theory into practice.

"Uh, yeah." Alec nods, his hand tightening around his quill. "You?"

Lydia smiles wryly. "Herbology. I'm much better at the theory than the practical. My grandmother likes to joke that I have a black thumb."

Alec chokes out a laugh. And then realises what he's done. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't laugh."

Lydia shakes her head, her smile a little softer. "It's okay, I'd laugh too. I'm just waiting for the day where we get to duel in Defence Against the Dark Arts."

"Your speciality?" Alec asks, curiously.

Lydia nods. "It certainly seems that way. Between my spell-casting and my black thumb."

Alec laughs softly, and not long after Lydia is joining in. It's nice, to laugh with someone else, especially about something that matters to him so much. It's also very different and not anything he's really used to.

He thinks it possibly could be, though. Something he _could_ get used to.

They return to their work, mostly in silence, though Alec will ask Lydia for her opinion on a question, and Lydia will ask Alec for his input on diagrams and assigned homework pieces.

Alec never really considered studying with somebody else. Simon asks him for help if they're both working at the same time, but it's not something they actively search out to. But then again, he's learning to do a lot of new things, recently.

He's accepting that he's not in the house he expected, that he did get sorted into Hufflepuff and that's okay, because Hufflepuff is a good house, and realistically he's lucky to have gotten sorted into such a nice one. And it's up to him to make his time at Hogwarts what he wants it to be.

He's making friends with people who he'd never consider before, people like Clary and Simon, Simon who talks so much and so loudly about things he doesn't understand and who bloody loses his own wand in his mattress, who loses something at least once a week, his glasses or his books or his own tie.

And now he's studying Potions with a Slytherin girl, who doesn't seem to fit any of the stereotypes that come with her house. A girl who, like Alec, doesn't quite fit but is trying anyway.

"We should make this a weekly thing," Lydia suggests, once it gets to the point where they're pushing the boundaries of their curfew.

'I'd like that." Alec says. And he would.

He's trying to be better. He saw how Bane looked at him in their Defence Against the Dark Arts class, when they were forced to work together, the almost pure disgust he had for everything Alec did. And he knows why.

He might not be able to get Bane to like him. But he can change the way he acts around others.

To become someone worthy of Hufflepuff.

 

* * *

 

Simon likes to think that he and Alec are friends.

It's taken them a few more weeks than he'd like - considering both he and Clary had foolishly come to Hogwarts with the hope that they'd make friends as soon as they turned up, and instead had only made enemies.

But still. They're okay now. Sure, Alec still thinks Simon does really stupid stuff, which he probably does, but he's less nasty about it.

In fact, Alec has gotten nicer all round. He's still a little sharp at the edges, but he's getting better. And he's trying, Simon can see that much. He presses his lips together a lot more, presumably keeping in comments that might seem inappropriate or less than kind. And there's been a few times where he's rubbed the bridge of his nose or rolls his eyes or something else expressing his irritation or frustration, but he keeps his thoughts to himself.

And his dry comments are funny when they're not directed towards Simon.

Point is, they're friends. And as his friend, it is Simon's duty to stand up for Alec when people are mean to him. Well, some people, anyway. He's not brave enough to try anything with that slimy Slytherin Sebastian Morgenstern, but there is one green-tied first year he _can_ back Alec up against.

"Hey, Alec?" Simon bumps Alec's shoulder gently. "I've got to talk someone about some spare parchment. I'll be just a minute, you go ahead."

Alec frowns, but before he can offer spare parchment of his own, Simon has already fallen back. Alec shrugs, and continues on his way to the stairs, towards the Defence Against the Dark Arts classroom. Simon watches him with a steel resolve, and waits.

"You're Magnus Bane, right?" He says, when Magnus comes around the corner, falling into step with him.

Magnus nods, his forehead creased in confusion. Simon offers him a smile, wide but false in it's nature.

"I'm Simon. Simon Lewis." He greets, overtly cheerful.

"Ah, yes, you're that Hufflepuff kid who hangs around the loathsome Lightwoods."

It's Simon's turn to frown, his pacing slowing. "They're not that bad, I mean - well, Jace can be irritating, especially when he thinks that he's the best and he expects everyone to love him, and acting like he's going to be the world's next saviour or whatever they call it."

"And the other one?" Magnus prompts, which only irritates Simon more, because Alec doesn't deserve to be spoken about like that.

"The 'other one' has a name, okay? It's Alec. And he's actually pretty nice, when you get to know him. I thought he was quite harsh and stand-offish when we met, but he's actually a pretty cool guy - although I don't know how he'd feel about me calling him that, I'm not even sure he knows what 'cool' means, is that even a word the magic world knows, I mean-"

"Look." Magnus glances over, sighing. "I've seen the two of you around, okay? I've seen him ignore you, and I know how snobby and cruel the Lightwoods can be. He may have tricked you into liking him, but I don't have to."

"You don't have to be nasty to him. Not before you give him a real chance." Simon fires, before stalking ahead.

Magnus is impossible. He'd tried to have a normal conversation about how Alec isn't actually a bad person, and instead he'd just made it about how much he apparently hates Alec.

Sometimes it really astounds Simon how horrible kids can be to each other.

 

* * *

 

Alec plops down at the Hufflepuff table, across from a very pouty Jace. And with the strange absence of Simon. Alec can't remember a day where Simon wasn't blabbering at any meal time.

"What's up with you?" Alec asks, adjusting his robe so that when he gets up, he won't trip.

"Nothing," Jace grumbles, though the hand over his mouth muffles the sound a little.

Alec raises an eyebrow. He's seen Jace like this before, grumpy and petulant, but not in their time at Hogwarts, and never like this. He wasn't this disappointed when he failed to spell in their first Charms lesson, or even when he didn't make it on to the Qudditch team.

"Alright." Alec says, reaching for a his cup, taking a sip of cool pumpkin juice.

He feigns nochalance, knowing that if he waits long enough the pressure of keeping it in will get to Jace, and he'll spill. He doesn't have to wait long - Jace has never been very patient.

"Clary and I, sort of had a fight." Jace explains, looking up.

He looks genuinely upset, which is surprising because this is usually the kind of thing that Jace would brush off. He and Alec have had fights before, and he's never looked this upset. It peeves Alec off a bit, but he pushes that aside in favour of concentrating on Jace.

"You had a fight? About what?"

Jace shrugs. "I was teaching her how to play Exploding Snap, and I made an off-hand comment about how it's sad that Simon follows her around - because it is a little, I mean, he's just always _there,_ you know? It escalated from there - I don't even remember what we ended up fighting about, it just turned really heated and then she literally _threw_ a card at me and stalked out of the common room. And now she won't talk to me."

Alec just sits there, taking a few bites of his dinner, waiting for Jace to continue. He can, admittedly, see where Jace is coming from, kind of. But what he said wasn't nice, and he needs to realise that.

There's a small voice in his head, surprisingly similar to Isabelle's, that tries to point out the irony of his standpoint, but he ignores it. This is about Jace's mistakes, not his own.

"Seriously, Alec?" Jace asks, incredulously. "You're not going to say anything? You're not even going to back me up?"

Alec frowns. "No? I'm sorry Jace, but I'm on Clary's side." He's just as surprised as Jace. "What you said wasn't really called for. And I think you should be the one who apologises first."

Jace shakes his head. "I can't believe - a few weeks ago-"

"A few weeks ago, I made a mistake. I did things I shouldn't have, and I'm figuring out now, that I could have handled myself better. Do you want to wait weeks, or do you want to go over to the Gryffindor table and apologise to Clary, and show her that you can actually be nice when you want to be?"

Jace stares at him, and Alec is almost expecting him to tell him to just shut it. Instead, he nods, his head hanging guiltily. "I guess you're right. I'll catch her after dinner. Maybe offer her a Wizard Card or something as an apology. She's fascinated by them."

Alec doesn't know what he's more surprised at. Jace admitting he's right, or taking his advice.

"I'm sure she'll appreciate it."

 

* * *

 

Alec curses beneath his breath.

He's trying to train, as Julian had asked him to, by testing the height he can manage on his broom. But he only manages to get as high as the goals before waves of tremors race through his legs and he lowers himself down again, to a more reasonable height.

He's not sure whether it's because of his rocky begining the first day, or the intensity of the Qudditch trials - he can still feel phantom aches when he lifts up off the ground - but he's getting increasingly annoyed.

How is he supposed to get any better at Qudditch if he can't even work on his training? Half of the game is maintaining his balance on his broom. If he falls off, he's done - both in the game and generally; the ground is far, and landing with that much force would leave him with severe injuries, to say the least.

Alec hates failing. So he lowers to the ground, readjusts his stance and pushes off again.

Except, he only manages to land, before a loud clapping sound startles him. It's lucky he wasn't flying, or he would probably have woken up in the hospital ward.

Julian stands a safe distance away, his own broom, a lot nicer and glossier, clutched in his left hand. He's smiling, which Alec takes as a good sign, although he can't recall a time where Julian wasn't smiling. He's a generally, all-round happy kind of guy.

"Hey, Alec." Julian greets,

Alec clambers off his broom. "Hi."

Julian nods towards Alec's broom, his curly hair bouncing with the movement, as though it has a life of it's own. "I've been watching you - you know, I wasn't lying. You are very good. And I think you could be a wonderful addition to the team one day."

Alec ducks his head. "One day."

Julian narrows his eyes slightly. "Hey, Alec? Is everything okay?"

Alec wishes he could say yes. But he's tired and he's frustrated, and he doesn't have the energy to lie.

"I can't get high enough," He explains. "On my broom."

Julian frowns, taking a slow step forward. "You seemed fine at the Quidditch trials."

"I know," Alec sighs, exasperatedly. "I know. But now, whenever I try and get higher than the goals, my legs go shaky and weak and I have to fly down in case I fall off."

"You could have been running on adrenaline, at the trials..." Julian smiles, kindly. "Don't take this the wrong way, Alec, but you might just be scared. It's not something people just do, casually - fly miles and miles up in to the air."

Alec scoffs. "You seem to have a pretty firm handle on things."

Julian laughs. Alec isn't sure what's funny about his statement. "I have been flying that high since I was in your year." Julian explains. "I have a bit more experience on my side."

"How did you handle it?" Alec asks. "When you had as little experience as I do?"

Julian shrugs, his hand twisting around the handle of his broom. "Honestly? I just practiced. Every few days, I'd make things a little harder for myself; a few inches higher, a few paces faster, a few twists or turns in the middle to test myself."

"Would you-" Alec hates admitting weakness, hates it, hates it- "Would you mind helping me? I know you're probably busy and you're the head of a whole Qudditch team, but-"

"Alec." Julian places a gentle hand on Alec's shoulder. "I would be thrilled to train someone as obviously talented as you. As you said, I am busy, but I'm sure I can figure things out - especially in the name of helping Hufflepuff win in the future."

"You don't have to-"

"I want to." Julian insists, before Alec can protest any further. "I love Quidditch - any chance to play or train is one I will eagerly take. And, I like you. You remind me a little of my brother, Ty. Quiet, a little sombre, far smarter than people give you credit for."

Julian climbs onto his own broom, already hovering a few inches above the ground. "You're good, Alec, really good. You just need to refine your skills a bit. I asked you to train more, and I can't just expect you to do that without help."

Alec stares at Julian for a few moments, before he nods. Pretty much everything that Julian is saying makes sense. The praise on his talents aside. And he does want to get better, he does want to train, and he can't do it by himself.

And, who knows, maybe spending more time with Julian will help him adjust better to his house. Julian said himself that he understands what it's like to not feel comfortable at first, being in a house so different to the one usually held by their family. He looks more than comfortable now. He's the captain of the Qudditch team, practically a pillar of the house - somebody that everyone in the lower years look to, because he's always smiling or laughing, always kind and willing to help.

He's the best chance Alec has at getting better. He certainly can't do it by himself.

"Thank you." He says, sincerely. He knows a few words aren't enough, but it's all he has at the moment. "That really - thank you, Julian."

Julian grins - it's wide and a little blindingly bright, like the kind of smile Jace flashes, though Julian's seems a little more genuine and heartfelt.

"Don't thank me yet." Julian says. "You're going to hate me when we're done."

Alec opens his mouth to protest, but Julian beats him to it.

"It's okay, Alec. I wouldn't have it any other way."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you guys thought this chapter was good you have no idea what's coming next ;)


	6. Help Will Always Be Given (to Those Who Ask)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Magnus stews in his hatred for a certain someone, Alec refuses to let it bother him (too much), and there's some attempt at civility.

  
Despite his rocky start, Alec finds that it takes him mere weeks to fall into the beautiful daily monotony of life at Hogwarts. Of early morning breakfasts in the bustling Great Hall, of Charms and Potions and crisp autumnal mornings out in the greenhouses with Professor Sprout for Herbology, of the disheartening frustrations and the uplifting successes that come hand in hand with magical study.

His random, sporadic training sessions with Julian inject a definite sense of excitement into Alec's weeks. Julian is unendingly patient and impossibly kind-hearted, and he clearly knows exactly what he's talking about. Alec finds himself zooming high up above the goalposts, surveying the pitch and chatting to Julian about Professor Aldertree without so much as a tremor in his fingers by their second session together, and he's putting an increasing number of Quaffles past Julian's impressive Keeping skills.

Sometime in early November, he even - finally, after weeks and weeks of regular correspondences with his sister - gets an owl back from his parents. It's short, sharp, to the point, but then, he's never expected anything flowery and gushing from his parents. They don't mention his house, or the sorting, which makes Alec feel a little uneasy, but they express their approval at him getting on well in Defence Against the Dark Arts.

In fact, if it weren't for the clear animosity still being shown to him from a certain Slytherin, Alec would have counted his first term at Hogwarts a tentative success.

The problem is, really, that he has absolutely no idea how to break the ice. And honestly, he isn't quite sure what he's done to make Bane despise him so much. Other than the odd lesson, and that first encounter with Sebastian, they've barely interacted. And yes, perhaps that first day in their flying lesson hadn't been his finest hour, but...for it to cause so much hatred?

He doesn't understand.

***

"Something on your mind, Alec?" Julian asks him, making Alec snap out of his thoughts.

It's early December, and the frost that forms every morning makes the entire landscape glisten and glimmer, like someone has dusted the castle grounds with crushed diamond every morning. It's beautiful - so beautiful it took Alec's breath away, the first him he woke to it - but it's indicative of the frigid temperatures, and the cold, dark evenings.

Alec's sitting in the library, book open on his lap and quill in hand, but he's struggling to come up with the next words in his Herbology essay. It's not difficult, he's just...distracted. His mother would say he's procrastinating, but that's not quite it.

"I'm fine," he says immediately, feeling colour rush to his cheeks at the sudden attention. It's one thing for Julian to talk to him in the context of Quidditch, but in the library, like this, amongst older students and other sixth years and people Julian is undoubtedly friends with—it doesn't seem like the done thing. It's such an unprompted conversation; there's no reason for a NEWT student to be wasting his valuable time making small talk with a first year in the library.

"Stuck?" Julian asks, nodding at Alec's half-filled parchment as he reaches up to the top shelf to pull a book down.

"Uh, no, not- not really." Alec glances down. He feels like somebody's staring at him from across the room, but he doesn't want to look up and check. "I was just distracted."

"Well," Julian says, not unkindly, "if you un-distract yourself, I believe the girl over there is attempting to get your attention."

Alec stares up at him. "What? Who—" He follows the flicker of Julian's eyes, and sees a Slytherin girl whom he recognises from some of his classes - Lily - watching him with unblinking, calculating eyes. She tips her head to one side and jerks her chin at him when their gazes meet.

"I'll see you soon," Julian tells him, with one of his warm smiles. "Go on."

Alec stutters out a thanks, picks up his books, and heads over to the small table she's occupying. He hesitates; she kicks out a chair, underlining something she's written, paying him not the slightest bit of attention, now he's come over.

"You're Alec Lightwood," she says, once he's sat down.

"Um, yes?" He bites his lip. "You're Lily Cheng."

She smiles at him: it's wolfish, with sharp teeth and a glistening smile and the kind of eyes that Alec's sure are going to condemn him the moment he says something stupid.

"I am."

There's silence, and Alec wants to ask, he wants to know whether there's some reason for Lily asking him over here, for introducing herself, for starting this conversation. Because they've never spoken before, and she's friends with Magnus Bane, and Bane despises the very ground he walks on, and—

"You've had study sessions with Lydia," Lily says at last, drumming long fingers against the table.

"I– What?" He blinks. That isn't at all what he expected. Not because it isn't true - because he _has_ \- but because he wasn't aware that Lily and Lydia are particularly close, and if they're not, he doesn't see what business of Lily's it is, who Lydia's choosing to spend her time with.

If Lily is about to warn him away from Lydia, because she probably hates him just like Magnus does - they're friends, after all - then Alec's going to scream.

"See, Lightwood, I have a conundrum." She purses her lips, and taps the table arrhythmically with rounded fingernails. "Magnus thinks you're scum. Now, I don't particularly like you, but..." She shrugs diplomatically. "It seems a little...extreme. And Lydia seems to think you're lovely."

Alec isn't quite sure what he's supposed to say to that. It's not like he doesn't already know that Bane detests him, but he still doesn't quite get why he evokes such a strong reaction in the other boy.

"Have you done Aldertree's homework?" she asks, changing the subject without warning, spinning her copy of the set questions around to face him. She apparently doesn't care that Alec hasn't responded to her comments. "Because I really don't understand this."

She's pointing to the final question, which Alec and Simon spent most of the previous day pouring over in the corner of the library. He can't remember the exact details of the answer they came to, but he certainly remembers the gist of it.

"Yeah." Internally, he berates himself for his incurable ineloquence. "I—"

"Explain it to me."

Alec's lips part for a moment, as he watches Lily, waiting for the punchline. But nothing comes. She merely returns his gaze with unwavering ferocity, and quirks one eyebrow at him.

So, still wondering what in Dumbledore's name is happening, Alec flicks through Lily's textbook and gives her the explanation for the conclusion he and Simon came to.

When her eyes light up and she lets out a muffled sound of satisfaction upon understand, and she lets out a laugh, Alec only feels more bewildered. She picks her things up and leaves the library with a quick expression of gratitude over her shoulder, and Alec stares after.

At least Bane's thoughts are easy to understand.

***

"He's not Satan," Lily announces, slamming her books down on the Ravenclaw bench in the Great Hall the following morning. Catarina and Magnus both turn to stare at her; Ragnor merely reaches for another piece of toast, unfazed. "He's not evil, he's not condescending, and he's about a thousand times less insolent than the blonde brat."

Magnus gapes. "Who on earth are you talking about?"

"Lightwood. Alec Lightwood. Your arch nemesis, for reasons unknown." Lily plonks herself down between Catarina and another first year Ravenclaw, and pulls out her Defence Against the Dark Arts homework. "I got him to explain this to me yesterday, in the library. He's shy to the point of irritation, but he's not a complete—"

"Okay, okay, I've got it." Magnus interrupts her smoothly, because it's far too early for this. "Lightwood is the epitome of human perfection and everybody has to love him, and I'm the demon for knowing he's a just another stuck-up rich boy who actually acts like a coward and—"

"I think you're being very unfair, Magnus," Catarina tells him. "Besides, I thought you decided Lightwood wasn't worth your time, and that you'd forget he existed?"

"I did." Magnus shoots Lily a foul glare, but she merely smiles back at him. "Until this one decided to ruin my pleasant breakfast with tales of his honourable deeds."

"He's not that bad," Lily says, and there's a finality to her voice informing Magnus that he won't be winning this one. She's made up her mind, and no amount of debating will sway her opinion. "I say he's not that bad, and Lydia says he's not that bad, and nobody else we know in the school has an opinion because he's far too quiet to cause any drama. You're being ridiculous, Magnus."

Magnus catches sight of the two Lightwood brothers walking into the Great Hall together, with their usual companions. Clary and Simon have their heads together, and the brothers are both laughing about something.

Magnus curls his fingers tighter around the knife he'd been buttering his toast with, and his lip curls a little. Something about the scene only makes his eternal desire to smack the dark-haired Lightwood across the face increase.

***

When Magnus walks into the Great Hall on Monday morning with his Defence Against the Dark Arts books weighing heavy in his school bag, a mere fortnight before the Christmas holidays, he's assaulted by a sight that's so overwhelmingly beautiful he loses his footing, and stumbles. A Gryffindor girl catches his bag with lightening reflexes, and proceeds to smile away his apology, and his thanks.

He tries exceptionally hard not to make a fool out of himself - although he's found that difficult, sometimes, at Hogwarts, with so many things he could never have pictured in his most vivid dreams. But it's Christmas, and, clearly, whoever is responsible for the Hogwarts décor enjoys the opportunity to turn the Great Hall into some kind of Disney castle.

Someone has dragged in - _magicked_ in, more likely, he supposes - twelve enormous Christmas trees, which are set out along the edges of the hall at regular intervals. They're covered in baubles, in gold and red and silver, glistening and shimmering. Flecks of snow have been enchanted onto the branches, white covering lush green in soft sprinkles, glittering and twinkling like the snow and the frost Magnus has observed outside the castle for the past weeks. The ceiling appears to be snowing onto the heads of the students, and there are—

Are those mince pies? For breakfast?

Sweet Jesus, Magnus adores this place.

He practically throws himself onto the bench beside Lily, and reaches immediately for a mince pie along with his usual piece of toast and jam. She observes him with her spoon halfway to her mouth, a clear expression of disdain on her face.

"You're not an animal, Bane," she tells him, when he bites into the mince pie and gets crumbs and mince meat unattractively at the corners of his lips. "Control yourself. It's breakfast, not a brand new Firebolt model."

"Out of the two, I'd rather have the breakfast," Ragnor says, not looking up from a piece of parchment. He's scribbling like he's about to unlock the key to curing world hunger, but his voice is as calm and measured and saturated with disinterest as always.

"It's a mince pie," Magnus says, swallowing. Lily makes a revolted face, so, because he's exceptionally mature, he sticks his tongue out at her. "I haven't had a mince pie for years. They're a luxury in an orphanage."

Lily narrows her eyes at him. "You're way too cheery. We're going to Defence Against the Dark Arts, you should be complaining about having to endure a whole hour in the same general vicinity as Lightwood. Why are you being so cheery?"

Magnus stared at her. "Lily, I don't know whether you've noticed, but it's Christmas. There're trees and everything. Is Christmas not a thing wizards and witches get excited about?"

"We get plenty excited," Catarina assures him, with a smile, "same as muggles. But Lily's right. You are being unusually cheery. Looking forward to visiting home over Christmas?"

Magnus blinks at her. "Pardon?"

"Home," Catarina repeats. "Back to the orphanage, for the Christmas holidays. You must miss your friends there."

Magnus opens his mouth, and then promptly closes it again. Because...well, _no_ , is the answer to Catarina's question. Definitely not. Hogwarts is magical, and alright, yes, Sebastian Morgenstern and the Lightwoods could take a trip down to the bottom of the Black Lake for all Magnus would care, but even they - mostly - leave him be. They don't actively pick him out.

Which makes them, practically if not morally, a right sight better than the arseholes he grew up with.

Honestly, he hadn't even thought about having to go home for Christmas—because Hogwarts, in a mere few months, has begun to feel like home. It feels more like home than the stuffy orphanage with the uptight workers and moronic, broken kids ever has.

The realisation that he has to go back there, not just for two weeks at Christmas, but also at Easter, and for _six_ weeks during the summer, hits Magnus hard, like someone dumping a bucket of freezing water over his head, the cold penetrating his robes and sinking deep into his sink.

God. He doesn't want to go home for Christmas.

Something pokes his arm. "Magnus?"

He snaps out of his thoughts, and finds all three of his friends staring at him with varying expressions of curiosity and concern.

"Pardon?" he asks, stupidly.

Catarina's brow furrows. "Are you alright?"

"Fine. I'm fine. Of course I'm fine." He swallows. "I, ah, forgot that the Christmas holidays entail...leaving school."

"You're not looking forward to it?" Lily asks, leaning forward.

Magnus shrugs, and dodges the question, because he really, really has no wish to discuss this sort of thing with his friends today. It's too early, and it'll make him too upset, because he's yet to perfect the art of concealing his every emotion. One day, he's going to be a damn master, though. He can tell.

"I've enjoyed this," he says instead. "Hogwarts. Magic. It's exciting. Going back to the muggle world will seem very...mundane."

"I can understand that," Catarina says, squeezing his forearm. "But you'll come back after Christmas. And besides, if you want to, you're allowed to stay at Hogwarts in the holidays. Not summer," she adds, to his look to surprise, "but Christmas, and Easter, yes. The heads of house usually come round with a list."

Magnus knows, really, that he has to go back to the orphanage, at least this year. Catarina, Ragnor and Lily will all be going back home, and what's the point of staying at Hogwarts without his friends? The castle is enormous, and it would be very lonely.

Their conversation shifts to something lighter, but Magnus' heart feels suddenly weighted. Across the table, he feels Ragnor watching him; when their gazes meet, Ragnor offers him a small, sympathetic smile. Magnus realises, with a painful jolt in his chest that feels suspiciously like fondness, that Ragnor has understood exactly what's going on in Magnus' head, without either of them exchanging a word about it.

***

"What in the name of Dumbledore was _that_?" Magnus demands of Lily as they exit the potions classroom. "What is wrong with you?"

Lily rolls her eyes, and glances over her shoulder, presumably checking to see whether Lightwood - or one of his stupid friends - are within earshot. Magnus couldn't care less. He doesn't care whether the spoilt brat hears him and gets offended. He can't believe Lily.

"I had a two minute conversation with him, calm down."

Magnus splutters. "You _laughed_. You _never_ laugh."

"Yes, well, he's somewhat amusing. He's so socially awkward it's painful." Her lips curl at one corner. "I quite like him, Magnus, what do you want me to say? He's smart, he's not whatever demonic snob you've built him up to be in your head, and he's..." She hesitates, and then wrinkles her nose slightly. "He's nice. Which isn't exactly my type of person, really, but he hides his niceness well, so I suppose that makes up for it."

Magnus scoffs. "He hides his niceness well because he doesn't have any. He's a complete asshole. He's a pureblood snob, exactly like Ragnor said the Lightwoods are, and frankly—"

They round the corner, and Magnus freezes when he sees the two Lightwood brothers, along with Simon and Clary - who both seem far too decent to spend any amount of time with either Lightwood, but especially _Alec_. Jace and Simon seem to be bickering about something, Clary shaking her head at them, and Alec—

Alec's eyes flicker quickly back to his brother, and a smile forces its way onto his lips. It's so clearly fake: his shoulders are tensed, and Magnus tracks the bob of his throat as he swallows, rubbing his fingers together.

It's with a sinking feeling in his stomach that he realises that Lightwood heard everything he said. Or, at least, enough for him to work out who Magnus had been talking about, and for it to have bothered him.

Magnus purses his lips as Lily drags him forcefully past the group, muttering under her breath about how stupid he is. He shouldn't feel guilty. He _doesn't_ feel guilty. He doesn't. That- that awful boy doesn't deserve his worries. He'd as good as condoned Morgenstern calling him a mudblood, for god's sake, and he clearly despises the very ground Magnus walks on, and—

"Just be glad the blonde didn't hear you saying all that," Lily says, pulling him down onto a bench at the Slytherin table. "He'd be destroying you right about now if he had."

Magnus can't help himself. He looks back towards the thick oak doors, scanning the mass of students for the Lightwoods, but they've been swallowed up by the sea of black robes.

There's no reason for the guilt that keeps churning in his stomach for the rest of the day. But between that and the unending reproachable looks Lily tosses him all afternoon, he can't get the look on Lightwood's face out of his head for the rest of the day, and well into the night.

***

When Alec walks into the library, two days before the Christmas holidays (and two days, therefore, before he has to face his parents, who still haven't replied to any of his owls, despite Izzy's regular and heart-warming correspondence) he almost walks straight back out again.

Almost.

It's a Wednesday, which means he's just come from an excruciating conversation with Simon about reindeer that he's loathe to admit he'd been trying not to laugh all the way through, because by Dumbledore, Simon is so ridiculous sometimes. It's his weekly study evening with Lydia, during which they actually do their homework for about an hour, and spend most of their time chatting, and geeking out over things in textbooks.

(Alec's realising more and more that Julian was right—being in Hufflepuff doesn't mean he can't have any of the qualities from the other houses. Lydia is a textbook nerd, and, frankly, he's fairly sure he is, too, but neither of them are in Ravenclaw. It's a very comforting epiphany.)

But Lydia hadn't been in lessons all day, and, according to Lily, she'd be sick the previous evening, so Madame Pomfrey had prescribed her a day in bed. Which means that Alec is on his own for the evening—but that's okay. (Simon and Jace had both offered to come, but Alec knows he'd have done no work whatsoever with either of them present.)

And, honestly, it would have been fine, were it not for the undeniably ostentatious Slytherin sitting one over from Alec's usual table.

Alec grits his teeth, and tightens his grip on the strap of his bag. He's not going to ruin his evening for Magnus Bane. If Bane hates him as much as it sounded like he did the other day (and hearing that rant made Alec feel so horrible it's still plaguing him when his mind isn't stuffed with other things) then that's his problem, not Alec's, and they can just ignore each other. There's absolutely no need for them to interact. But he refuses to bend to Bane's comfort.

So instead, heart pounding wildly, he sits down, pointedly ignoring the other boy, pulls out his books, and starts working.

***

Nearly an hour later, Alec can't help but wonder whether this whole thing is a terrible idea. He and Bane are clearly aware of the other's presence, and it's phenomenally distracting when he's trying to focus on his Potions essay.

Bane lets out a curse, scratching through something on his parchment with a huff. He reaches one hand up to grip at his hair in clear frustration, eyes restlessly moving over whatever he's written, before he exchanges his quill for his wand.

Magnus mutters an incantation - they've been practising the severing charm in Charms class for the last two weeks, and as of yet, only a third of the class has mastered it - and Alec's eyes go wide when, far from doing as intended, the parchment Bane is pointing his wand at flies into the air and crumples before landing on the floor.

It's a careless display of magic, ruled by emotion and clearly not channelled through anything that resembles control. Bane is irritated, and, by the looks of it, tired, and Alec can see what he's doing wrong, he can see it, but he doesn't dare say anything, because Bane hates him, and frankly, he doesn't like Bane very much, and—

"What?" Magnus snaps, catching his eye. "Gloating?"

"No," Alec says, softly, averting his eyes and looking down at his mangled mess of a Potions essay. It's pathetic, and he's fairly sure he's going to end up rewriting the whole thing. "Sorry."

Bane rolls his eyes. "I don't know what you said to Lily to make her like you, but I don't agree with her, so please, just leave me alone. I'm not in the mood."

"I know you don't like me. I'm not stupid." Alec's voice has more heat in it than he intends, and he winces a little. "You know what, I'll just go."

He stands up, hands trembling a little, because he despises confrontation of any kind, and swipes his books off the table. The quill he's been using tumbles to the floor, dragging his essay with it, and he curses himself.

To his surprise, Bane bends to pick it up, and hands it to him.

"Thanks."

They studiously avoid eye contact, Alec hesitating, before Magnus snaps, "Are you going to stand there all night?"

Alec huffs. "Look, I'm sorry for whatever it is I did to make you hate me so much, but you don't have to been such a jerk all the time."

Magnus' eyes widen, and go dark with indignation. " _I_ don't have to be such a jerk? God, you've got some nerve, Lightwood."

"I don't go around yelling to my friends about how much I despise you!" Alec hisses at him. "Especially when we never even talk to each other! I don't care what it is you've got against me, but I don't deserve—"

"You don't deserve what, exactly?" Bane spits. "To hear that you're not perfect? Stop being such a spoilt brat, Jesus Christ. The world doesn't revolve around you and your stuck-up pureblood snobbery."

Alec reels back in utter astonishment, because... _what_? God, he knows he's a very long way from perfect, but...his _stuck-up pureblood snobbery_? Alec has spent his life trying not to be like his parents, and not to adhere to any of their blood purity rubbish. Is that really what Magnus thinks of him? That's he...like Sebastian Morgenstern? That he's like his parents? Like all those in-bred fools who are still stuck in the eighteenth century?

"I..." Alec can't find anything to say in reply to Bane's accusations. Because if he's been acting in a way to make the other boy believe that, then maybe he's much more like his parents than he thinks he is. Maybe he need to partake in a little introspection.

Bane sneers a little. "Not used to being called out? I don't want to hear it. Now please, leave me alone."

"I'm sorry," Alec tells him, quietly, watching him even though Magnus is looking down at his textbook again. "I... I didn't... I'm sorry. If I made you feel like that. I don't...I don't think that."

Magnus pauses, stilling all over, and he glances up at Alec, uncertainty appearing in his eyes. He voice, when he speaks, is softer, and laced with confusion. "Did you just apologise to me?"

"Yes?" Alec blinks at him, not sure what to make of the abrupt change in Bane's tone of voice and body language.

Magnus looks vulnerable, open, unsure, and it's such a stark contrast to the way he usually holds himself, oozing confidence and assurances (which Alec suspects is at least somewhat for show, for self-preservation, some misguided kind of armour) that it throws Alec a little.

"If you think I'm one of those elitist idiots who looks down on muggles, or muggle-borns, or anyone who isn't a pureblood wizard...I'm not. I don't– I've never thought that. My brother is a half-blood. Most people are half-bloods, I don't..." Alec shakes his head, mind still reeling. He's astounded that this is what's made Bane hate him, and he really, really doesn't understand what's made the other boy believe that he's one of _those_ purebloods.

Slowly, Magnus unclenches the hand he's curled into a fist during the course of their conversation, and his jaw slackens a little. "You...don't?"

"No." Alec shakes his head. "Of course not."

"Then..." Magnus blinks. "Then why...? That day, with Sebastian, that first day, why did you...?"

"I'm sorry," Alec says again, and this time, he averts his gaze, because he knows that that hadn't exactly been his finest hour. Jace laid into him for it, and, apparently, it's coming back to bite him. "I should have said something. I didn't want Jace to get himself detention on day one. I wasn't agreeing with what Sebastian said to you." He forces himself to meet Magnus' gaze, and holds it. "I think that word, and that mindset, is disgusting."

Magnus stares up at him, ambivalence flashing in his eyes, fingers restless on the table. "Really?"

"Really." Alec bites his lip, and then sits down in the empty chair opposite Magnus slowly. He taps on the textbook. "Look, I'm not expecting you to start liking me all of a sudden, but I could help. With this. If you like."

Magnus narrows his eyes. "So you can exert your superiority?"

Alec isn't quite sure whether or not Magnus is joking, but he lets out a weak laugh anyway, because he's not sure what other reaction is appropriate. "No. But, ah, Lily says you're good at Potions, and I am...not. And I really, really don't get this. But I do get Charms."

When Alec offers Magnus his homework, Magnus takes it, somewhat gingerly, clearly being exceptionally careful not to touch Alec. He frowns for a moment, before his expression clears.

"Oh! This isn't that bad." Magnus purses his lips. "Alright then, Lightwood, I'll help you with this, if you help me with Charms."

"Deal."

Magnus appraises him for a moment, and then adds, "This is a one-time thing. I still don't trust you. Or like you."

Alec bites back a smile. "Alright."

And, one-time thing or not, by the time they leave the library, not only have they both finished and understood their respective pieces of homework, but Alec returns to the common room feeling lighter than he has all term.

***

Magnus is brooding.

He hasn't really done much brooding since he came to Hogwarts. There hasn't been much to brood about, aside from occasional moments of intense frustration (which bordered on hatred) of Alexander Lightwood.

But he's back on the Hogwarts express, with his friends laughing and quipping at each other, and snow is falling, covering the English countryside in thick blankets of white outside. It looks freezing outside, clouds overhead making the landscape grey, but it's warm on the train, especially with his knees tucked up to his chest and wrapped in a hoodie.

But he's still brooding. Because it's the Christmas holidays, and his friends are ecstatic about going home to see their families (even if Lily's hiding it particularly well and Lydia has been complaining about her mother's experimental cooking for the last five minutes) — and he is...not.

He's really, really not.

What does he have to look forward to, this Christmas? Or, frankly, any Christmas, ever? He barely remembers Christmases before the orphanage, so Christmas has always been the time at which he's most acutely aware of how very lonely the world is.

He'd thought Hogwarts would be a new home. A new start. Somewhere he'd make friends who would become like family to him, someday. Or, at least, somewhere he wouldn't have to feel so gut-wrenchingly alone.

But sitting with his friends, now, Magnus isn't sure he's ever felt more isolated.

***

A sharp kick to Alec's shin snaps him out of his thoughts. He looks up at Jace - because even if he didn't see his brother's foot connect with his calf, it was _totally_ Jace - and glares. Jace grins at him.

"Stop being grumpy," Jace tells him, while Simon and Clary are outside buying extortionate amounts of food from the trolley lady. "It's Christmas, bro, lighten up. And we're going home! No more of Aldertree's stupid homework, and we don't have to see Morgenstern's stupid slimy face for two weeks."

Alec smiles faintly, and nods. His stomach has been churning for the last twenty-four hours, and if Simon comes back with anything sugary, Alec is going to throw up all over the nice upholstery of the train seats.

"Alec." Jace lowers his voice, and his lighthearted expression drops to be replaced with one of consternation. "We're gonna see Izzy in like, twenty minutes, why do you look like someone just brutally murdered your puppy?"

"I don't have a puppy," Alec mutters, rolling his eyes so he has an excuse to look away. He'd like one, but his parents would probably announce their undying support for Hermione Granger's somewhat revolutionary steps at the Ministry before so much as considering buying a Lightwood family pet. They hadn't even let Alec and Jace get an owl between them to take to school.

" _Alec_."

"Because I'm scared of seeing Mum and Dad, okay?" Alec snaps at him. "I'm scared of seeing them, and I'm scared of what they'll say, and I'm scared of being the family disappointment."

Jace stares at him, astonishment etched into his every feature. "What?" he asks, voice tinged with disbelief. "You... What? Why...? Is this about the Hufflepuff thing? You told them about that. You said to me that you wrote to them, and you told them—"

"They didn't reply," Alec says, exhaling. "Or, they did, but they ignored the bit of my letter regarding my house. I don't want to get onto that platform and see them looking at me like I'm some kind of..."

"What?" Jace demands. "Some kind of what?"

"I don't know."

"What exactly do you think they're going to do?" Jace is hissing in an effort to talk low enough for their conversation to be inaudible to anyone outside, leaning forward in his seat opposite Alec, clenching and unclenching his fingers on his knees. "What do you think they're going to say to you that could possibly be so terrible? What—"

Alec closes his eyes. "I don't know, Jace."

"Alec—"

"I don't know, okay?" Alec stands up, movements jerky. "I don't know, but I can't help being worried about it. I need some air."

He ignores Jace calling him, and lets the compartment door click shut behind him. He doesn't spare Clary and Simon a glance, and heads up towards the end of the train, where there's a bathroom, and somewhere to shut himself away for a few minutes and hide his face from the world so he can stop guarding his every expression.

He's so busy trying to avoid making eye contact with a soul, lest he glance at someone he knows - Julian, or Lydia, or even Lily - that he's distinctly unaware of the compartment door sliding open near-silently on his right, until he's smashed straight into the person exiting.

"Oh, god," he says, stumbling back. "I'm so sorry, I wasn't paying attention to—"

"It's alright," says a voice that sends mortified horror shooting through Alec's stomach.

Because, of course, just his luck, he's run smack bang into Magnus Bane.

***

Magnus almost wants to laugh.

Which is an enormous improvement from his state of mind a mere ten seconds before he'd walked into Alec Lightwood, but it also probably says an unfortunate amount about him, as a person.

But...Alec looks like Magnus imagines he had when he'd first seen Nearly Headless Nick demonstrate why, exactly, he'd been named so, over breakfast, two weeks into term.

It's ridiculous. Alec's already apologised. And their encounter at the library had been civil, in the end, even bordering on friendly. Magnus doesn't have to like Alec to not hate him anymore.

(He doesn't _hate_ Alec. He's decided that Lily might be right. And Catarina especially. He might, possibly, have misjudged somewhat. But god knows he still can't help wanting to roll his eyes at Lightwood's mere existence, even if that's in a less malicious way than before.)

"It's fine," Magnus tells him. "Really."

Alec stutters out something that Magnus thinks is probably supposed to be some sort of agreement, or acknowledgement, but just sounds like codswallop. Magnus wonders whether Alec has just experienced something terribly traumatising, or whether he's just...this shy. Or, indeed, whether perhaps it's a little bit of both.

They both hesitate, looking at each other uneasily, both clearly waiting for the other to move down the narrow walkway first, before Magnus huffs.

"This is ridiculous. I don't even know why I'm coming out here, I'm not going anywhere specific, so move, Lightwood."

Alec shrugs a little, the discomfort in his eyes clear. "Me too. I just..." He shakes his head, and swallows, fixing his gaze on something invisible between Magnus' shoulder and the floor.

Huh. Interesting. The stuck-up Lightwood (who's less stuck-up than Magnus previously believed) is capable of having emotions and being hurt. Magnus raises an eyebrow. "Wanted space?"

"Something like that."

Magnus pauses for a moment, because he's not really sure where he stands with Alec. But he decides to throw caution to the wind, and says, "You're not looking forward to Christmas?"

Alec lets out a little laugh. "That obvious?"

"Takes one to know one, I suppose," Magnus says with a philosophical shrug. "I'm not a huge fan of Christmas. I'd rather have stayed at Hogwarts, but everyone else is going home, so it seemed fairly redundant." He appraises Alec, wondering at why someone like Alec would look so resigned about going home for the holidays.

In fact, it's not really resignation in his eyes. It's much closer to sheer dread.

"So, what're your familial Christmas issues?" Magnus asks, leaning back against the side of the compartment with his arms crossed.

Alec shifts awkwardly. Magnus thinks he might be making him slightly uncomfortable, and while most of him does an internal cheer, there's a small, but growing, part of him lingering on just how long they'd spent in that library, explaining homework to each other and going over things without so much as one snide comment.

"My entire family are Gryffindors. Have been for generations," Alec says, as though that explains everything. "I'm clearly not."

Magnus quirks an eyebrow. "And that makes Christmas lunch uncomfortable? Have to give all the red and gold lion memorabilia to Jace and find you some badgers last-minute?"

Alec glares at him. "You're such a jerk, Bane."

"Hey!" He raises his hands, palms forward. "What am I supposed to know? Why the hell is it such a big deal? I thought Slytherin was the bad house."

"Yeah, and Hufflepuff's the dumb, useless house, in the eyes of my parents," Alec says, and there's so much bitterness in his voice that Magnus feels all his smirking and teasing drop away. Lips parting a little, he stares at Alec, entirely taken aback.

"Your house really matters to your parents that much?" he asks, because god, he's heard about families full of Ravenclaws and generations of one family all under the same housemaster, but he hasn't really clocked it being something...big. Something that would cause resentment between parents and their child. It seems so inconsequential. So meaninglessly superficial.

Alec sighs heavily. "I don't know. They've been very silent on this front all term. But it doesn't matter. Whatever happens, happens." He plasters a small smile onto his face that makes Magnus want to cringe, and says, "What about you?"

"Me? Oh, I'm heading back to the wonderful world of an orphanage. Cozy Christmas feelings and enormous family cuddles galore." His voice rings with sarcasm, and his smile is sardonic. "I can't wait."

"Well, now I feel like an idiot." Alec laughs sheepishly. "My sister keeps telling me I need to get a bit more perspective."

Magnus opens his mouth, because he wants to ask about this sister - he hadn't realised there were more Lightwoods - and because he's intrigued by such an admission, but an announcement rings out overhead, requesting that everyone return to their seats.

"I suppose that's my cue to leave," Alec says, teeth sinking into his lower lip. His fingers rub together, and yes, god, Lily was right about how shy Alec is. Magnus has been speaking to him for all of five minutes, and he's noticed at least as many nervous ticks.

Alec's eyes flicker down to the floor, averting away from Magnus' gaze, and the Slytherin feels something urgent inflate inside him, suddenly.

"Wait—Lightwood!"

Alec turns, barely two steps away, and his eyebrows lift a little. "Yeah?"

"I don't really know much about all this, yet. Magic, and blood status, and all these wizarding customs and traditions and cultural subtleties, but for whatever my opinion is worth—I don't think being in Hufflepuff makes you dumb, or useless."

For a moment, Alec just looks at him, blankly, as though he can't quite register the words, can't quite understand what Magnus is trying to say. But then he smiles, lips turning up just a little at both corners, and it's possibly the most genuine expression Magnus has ever seen on Alec's face.

"Thank you," Alec says. He pauses, and sucks his lower lip back behind his teeth for a moment. "Merry Christmas, Bane."

Magnus takes a breath. "Merry Christmas, Lightwood."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (Sorry for this being a day late, and if you caught the Killers reference, you're my new best friend.)


	7. A Moment Of Reflection

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Magnus and Alec spend some time apart, and reflect upon their last meeting and the events that had lead them to the tense 'relationship' they have now. 
> 
> Feat. Isabelle Lightwood because it's been a while.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> prewarning - fair amount of angst in this, not intentional, just resulting.

_'I don't think being in Hufflepuff makes you dumb, or useless.'_

In the short time Alec has been at Hogwarts, he's heard and seen a lot of unexpected things. But hearing such consoling words from _Magnus Bane_ , arguably the first year who hates him the most, startles him more than when he'd actually walked _through_ Peeves in the hallway on his way to Defence Against the Dark Arts a few weeks ago.

It's not the words themselves. He's heard more kind things about being in Hufflepuff than he knows how to handle. It's an "amazing" house, being a part of Hufflepuff doesn't mean he's "weak", but rather "hard-working" and "loyal". And for the most part, he agrees. He's becoming kind of fond of Hufflepuff, the more time he spends as part of the house, the more love he has for it.

But those comments were from people who are generally quite nice to him. Not from someone who appears to despise his very existence.

He feels like he's treading on uneven ground, especially where Bane is concerned. He'd meant it when he wished the Slytherin a Merry Christmas, but he doesn't know what it means for their ... for where they stand. Surely they're not enemies anymore, enemies don't wish each other holiday wishes. Frenemies, maybe? Friends seems like a bit of a stretch, considering both of them are still getting used to just talking to each other with a degree of pleasantness.

They're somewhere, not quite enemies but not quite friends, and Alec doesn't know how to deal with the lack of balanced assurance.

Then again, he has some more important things he should be spending his time fretting over. Like the terrifyingly bright smile on Isabelle's face as he steps of the train, and the stoney, statuesque expressions of his parents behind her.

"Jace! Alec! Why aren't you wearing your robes?"

Jace responds before Alec has a chance. "Didn't want to make you jealous."

Alec thinks he's only slightly joking.

Jace bounds forwards, leaving Alec to trail behind with a heavy mind and weighted limbs. He glances up and catches his mother's gaze. In the face of other students and families, she appears blank and disinterested, holding herself with the firm discipline she enacts with her children, the form expected of a Ministry member. However, there's a flicker behind the shadows, and Alec feels the force of her disappointment, strong enough to leave him staggering. Beside her, his father stands rigid, gaze hard as he takes in the laughing, happy families and students swarming them.

Alec turns his attention to his sister, fighting off the twisted coil in his stomach. Isabelle's grinning enthusiastically, arms already stretched out, an unspoken invitation hanging in the air, though there's only one answer.

He steps forward, hugging her tighter than he thinks is probably safe. Isabelle doesn't see to mind, her arms wrapped around him like a vice, head tucked into his neck. Alec's underestimated just how much he missed her - he knew that he missed her a lot, but the constant buzz at Hogwarts had kept the reality at bay, his concerns occupied by other things.

Now that she's here in front of him, tangible and real, he can't deny the pocket of space her absence had created, a hole only filled with her presence.

"Alec, you've grown!" Isabelle states, pulling back, her hands on his elbows.

Alec laughs, a surprise even to himself. "Possibly, Iz."

Isabelle's eyes are glittering with how excited she is, and Alec can feel some of his tension melting away, not all of it but enough to make breathing easier. She's staring at him, but before he can ask what's wrong, her intense eye contact breaks and she's turning to loop Jace into a giant group hug.

"I missed you guys so much," She announces, mindless of anyone else around them. "I want to hear everything. _Everything._ "

"Were my letters not enough?" Jace asks, with feigned astonishment.

Isabelle glares at him half-heartedly. "Your letters were too erratically sent to learn much outside of your most recent sufferings - not that Simon sounds like something that causes suffering." She flicks her gaze to Alec, a hint softer. "As for Alec, I think half of the time he just forgot to send them. Probably too busy showing off in Charms."

The corner of Alec's mouth quirks, but his happiness isn't given a chance to last.

"Jonathan, Alexander." Maryse's voice is curt, her displeasure with Alec perfectly clear. "It's good to see you, but we'll have to keep the pleasantries short. We have no time to waste."

Jace and Isabelle share a quick look, but Alec is already scanning around for the luggage cart.

"Your luggage has already been taken care of." Robert informs them, barely a trace of uneccessary emotion in his tone.

It's not surprising. At least, it shouldn't be - his parents have never given out affection easily, it's always something to be earned. And yet, only a few months at Hogwarts and being blanked so smoothly hits Alec like the whiplash from a moving staircase.

Isabelle slips her hands between both Jace and Alec's arms, situating herself comfortably in between them. They follow behind the lead of their parents, the two imposing enough to split the crowd in front of them, wizards and witches alike scurrying away from the recieving end of their no-doubt chilling stare. Alec knows the sensation all too well.

"We'd better hurry," Isabelle whispers to them both. "Mum and Dad are on the warpath."

Alec winces. He has a fair guess as to why.

Together, they hurry towards the warped brick wall, bleeding through the magical wards that protect the muggle world from the wizarding one. Alec may not be excited about facing his parent's constant disappointment, but there's still something comforting about returning to the place he's always lived, somewhere that's concrete and certain and doesn't give him a headache at the thought of.

 

* * *

 

Magnus takes a deep breath, waiting on the safe side of the orphanage doors. He doesn't want to do it. He wants to turn back around, run through that preposterous brick wall - he's prepared to hike all the way back to Hogwarts if that's the step that needs to be taken to get him back to a place where he feels, at the very least, that he's normal.

He's never really felt like he's belonged, in any place. But Hogwarts had made him feel safe, because there was others like him around, he wasn't ... at Hogwarts, Magnus hadn't been alone in what he was going through.

The orphanage isn't like that. Kids put themselves first, everyone else be damned: and the adults are too busy, pulled in too many directions to notice until it's too late.

Once he steps past the threshold, he'll be back where he was, back where he'd been so happy to run from. It's more than just the magic of Hogwarts he's leaving behind - although he is a little disappointed that he can't legally use magic around muggles.

Muggles. He'd been a muggle, or at least perceived as one, before that fluttering letter had arrived. Now, even with the reminder of the buzz using magic leaves him with, he can't help but feel as though he's locking away every part of him that makes him different from these other kids, the parts of him that make him special.

In there, he's not a wizard. He's a poor kid with no one to love him, stuck with other parentless kids, shaped into the people they are now with the cookie cutters of their past.

Before Magnus can move, accepting that he has no other choice, the door opens for him.

A woman stands on the other side, tall and built in a way that reminds Magnus, despairingly, of his own mother - his memories of her are faint, but the resemblance strikes him, and he's left swaying on the inside. Her dark hair is tied in a loose braid, wisps of hair escaping around her ears and face.

"You must be Magnus." She's smiling in a way that he assumes is supposed to be calming, her onyx eyes wide but not imposingly so. He doesn't trust her, but he doesn't hate her either. "We've been expecting you."

The general line for the orphanage, apparently, is that he's been offered a full-ride scholarship at a fancy boarding school. Sebastian may be bad, but the other kids, the ones that have been there for a while - they're going to be so much worse.

The woman holds out a hand, her sleeves swishing with the movement. Her dress in't something he expected to see from someone working at the orphanage, long draping sleeves and white lace, a flowing skirt with a pinched waist that falls to her knees. It looks soft against her light brown skin, and all too achingly familiar.

"My name is April, I've taken over from Ms Dixon."

Grumpy old Ms Dixon, the woman who had run the orphanage before Magnus had left - he'd always wondered about her: for a woman whose job it is to take care of kids, pretty much twenty-four seven, she seemed to hate children with a deep-seeded passion. And those who worked with her were often too scared to protest in case they got fired.

But, still. She may have been a horrible person at times, but she was something he was used to, he knew how to handle her. He knows nothing about this woman, no matter how nice she is. Looks can be deceiving - his time at Hogwarts has taught him just how true that phrase really is.

April is still smiling. Magnus still feels like he's swaying. "I know this feels sudden for you, and I'm aware that two weeks isn't really enough time to fully adjust with these changes, but I promise that I'll make the transition as easy as possible for you."

She steps back, gesturing for Magnus to follow her inside. He glances at his suitcase, thinks of the green and silver scarf inside, the origami dragon Lily had wordlessly slipped to him the day before, the parchment of spell diagrams from Lydia, so that he could work on his wand movements in the time off.

He still has magic inside him. And in two weeks, Hogwarts will be waiting patiently for his return. He just has to push through until the time comes where he can rejoin the world he's secretly yearning for.

He follows April inside. He knows the orphanage like the back of his hand - or, at least, he had. It's different now. The walls are a bright yellow, not a drab grey, and the setup is so much more ... comfortable, than he remembers it being. There's clusters of couches off to the side near a television that hadn't been there before, and a whole corner of the room dedicated to board games and puzzles, new ones, colourful and fun, by their appearance. There's kids laughing and talking and playfully fighting and the atmosphere is so much brighter than he remembers it being.

Maybe he was wrong to judge April so quickly. She's already looking after them better than Ms Dixon did - her motto was basically 'fulfill duties to their barest minimum and see how well you can get away with it'.

"As you can see, I've altered things a little bit." April gestures loosely. There's a row of bangles on her wrist, some silver, some bronze, that clink together with the movement.

The sound reminds him of his mother's wind chimes, the ones made of metal she'd strung herself and hung at every corner of the house. He fights back an intruding wave of melancholy and forces a weak smile.

If April notices his slip, she doesn't mention it. "If there's anything you need, feel free to ask. I'm sure you know where my office is."

He does. Far left, adjacent to the 'dining' area. He'd been there plenty of times before. The bedrooms are all upstairs, up to six kids in a shoebox room on creaky bunkbeds. Unless - it feels foolish to hope, but if other things have changed, maybe that has too.

He wonders, distantly, how April managed to make so many changes. How did she get the funds? A loan? Her own money? However she did it, he's grateful.

"Sure." He mumbles. He feels out of place, but he can't determine why, exactly. Maybe it's a combination of everything, being a wizard in a world without magic, being in a place he no longer recognises, being away from his friends.

"I'll take you to your room, I'm sure you'd like to get settled." April glances back with a warm smile. Magnus smiles back, and although it is weak, it appears to be enough.

"Dinner is at six," April continues, leading him towards the stairs. "And lights out is at half-past nine. Chores are shared through a roster system, but we'll get that fixed for you tomorrow. After your long trip, you probably need rest."

Magnus isn't sure sleep will come as easily as he wants it to, or as April appears to think it will, but he doesn't argue. She seems nice, and despite his better judgement, he's starting to like her. There's something calming and almost familiar about her, and although he can't quite pinpoint why, he has a feeling that he can trust her.

He'll be wary, he always is, even with people he does like, because that's just how he's learnt to survive.

Still. He can probably last these two weeks. It is the Christmas break after all. What's not to love about Christmas?

 

* * *

 

Alec has been home for a day, and he already feels out of place.

When he's with Isabelle, and Jace, everything is great. Isabelle asks more questions than Alec has the energy for, and a lot of the time Jace's added comments are both ridiculous and embarrassing, and Isabelle ends up finding out more than Alec wants her to, but it's nice - because they're all together, all three of them, and it's where he knows he belongs.

But outside of their comfortable little bubble lies the cruel reality of his situation.

"How are you faring in Potions, Alexander?"

Alec cringes inwardly, his fork raised halfway to his mouth. His father is looking at him expectantly, if a little bored, and Alec wonders how he's supposed to answer without digging a bigger grave for himself.

"I'm, uh, I'm doing ... okay." He can feel Jace's gaze burning into the side of his head, but he ignores the sensation. "It's not my best class, but, um, I've been getting help."

He thinks of the library, of the impromptu study session he'd had with Bane - with Magnus - and how much help he'd actually been. It was the last thing he'd ever expected to happen, but it had helped him, a lot. He might not be able to handle Potions with the same ease as Magnus, or his parents, but he'd understood it a little better.

"How unfortunate." Maryse pipes up. She turns to Jace, a shining smile replacing the blank frown Alec had faced.

"And what about you Jonathan?" Her conversational change is obvious. Alec tries not to let it affect him - he knew this would happen - but it still hurts. He can feel Isabelle's foot, resting gently against his, a silent sign of her support. He appreciates it, but it's not like there's anything he can do.

He's not his parent's favourite. He's failed them. Simple as that.

"Well, uh - I did pretty good at the Quidditch trials," Jace admits. He looks conflicted. His gaze flickers, but when he looks over at Alec, torn, Alec just makes a vague shrugging gesture - an 'it's not your fault' kind of movement.

"And the Gryffindor captain, Emma Carstairs, said that I have a really good chance of getting on the team next year."

The pride in their parents eyes is unmistakeable. Alec wonders what it feels like to be on the receiving end.

"But," Jace adds, hastily, like he has to in case they get the wrong idea or something. "Alec did really well in trials too, the Hufflepuff captain, Julian Blackthorn, he even offered to help train Alec."

He thankfully leaves out the part where Julian already has begun training, which Alec is grateful for. It's clear they're not impressed. The slight twist to his mother's mouth, the twitch in his father's right eye. The gut-wrenching knowledge that he's done nothing but disappoint his parents. It's already too much. He doesn't need any unecessary baggage piled on top of him.

"And - and I'm really bad at Charms, but Alec's pretty much at the top of the class, already. Professor Flitwick-"

"Professor Flitwick is still around?" Maryse interrupts, glancing at Robert with casual contempt. "I thought he retired years ago."

Robert shrugs, seeming already bored with the direction of the conversation. "Apparently not."

Maryse makes a pointed, disapproving noise. Jace stares at Alec, eyebrows raised curiously. It comes to Alec's attention that perhaps Jace hadn't realised how callous their parents can be at times. He's never really been faced with it before.

"And we're both getting good grades in Defence Against The Dark Arts." Jace adds. Alec can see him scrambling for a foothold, just as he knows how pointless it is. Their parents have already lost interest in Alec's academic attempts.

"Alec was one of the first to perform _Lumos_ and Professor Aldertree-"

"What does the Gryffindor common room look like now, Jonathan?" Maryse asks - she sounds genuinely curious, and though Alec won't admit it, it kind of hurts. "I'm sure it's changed since we were there," She glances at Robert, who nods. "Are the seats still as shockingly gold?"

Alec tunes out as Jace starts to answer. This part of the conversation very obviously doesn't concern him, and he'd like to keep as much dignity as possible while he still can. Isabelle bumps his shoulder, and he turns to her discreetly - the last thing he needs to do is accidentally disrespect his parents and irritate them anymore.

"Meet me in your room after dinner." Isabelle states.

"Why?" Alec asks. "And why my room?"

Isabelle sighs exasperatedly. She looks a frustrating second away from stabbing him with her fork. "Because I actually want to hear about your time at Hogwarts. I want to hear about your classes and your common room, and this kid you're trying so desperately to avoid talking about - the one that helped you with your Potions homework?"

Alec frowns. "When did I-"

"You mentioned earlier that you're having study sessions with a Slytherin girl, Lydia?" Isabelle waits for Alec to nod his confirmation before continuing. "But you also mentioned you'd gotten help from someone in the library the other day, and you didn't talk about them as fondly."

Isabelle groans once it becomes clear that Alec hasn't clicked yet. "I'm not stupid, Alec. My point is, I want to hear about what's been going on while you're away. Because I care."

Her gaze flickers to their parents, still talking to Jace more enthusiastically than they had all evening.

"And you still haven't explained Simon to me yet." Isabelle grins, sharp and dangerous. "I'm curious about him."

"Because he's a muggle-born?" Alec doesn't really understand why anyone would be curious about Simon. He's loud and he's always talking about the weirdest things, and sure he's a good friend, but he's not that terribly exciting. At least, not enough to warrant the mischevious grin on Isabelle's face.

"Because you paint him so interestingly in your otherwise bare letters." Isabelle states.

Alec sighs, but doesn't try to protest. He's never been good at denying Isabelle what she wants, considering it's fairly reasonable and it's not going to hurt anyone - and she's his little sister, he'd give her the whole world if he was able to get his hands on it.

"Well." Alec sighs, glancing at his parents, talking animatedly with Jace. "I guess I don't have anything better to do."

Isabelle appears, for a fleeting moment, as though she is prepared to protest more. Alec waits, but her argument never comes. Instead she smiles, and it's soft enough to ease his internal tremors, if momentarily.

"You don't," She leans in closer, conspiratorily so. "Because there is nothing better than bonding with me."

Alec laughs, and although it's quiet and shared between just the two of them, it feels good.

 

* * *

 

The bedrooms are arguably better than at Hogwarts. For one, the bedrooms in Hogwarts, at least for the Slytherins, are down in the dungeons.

The _dungeons_.

The rooms at the orphanage have changed since Magnus saw them last. Gone are the squeaky bunkbeds and limited space. Instead, there is two twin beds to a room, with matching desks and bedside drawers.

Magnus has hidden his scarf beneath his underwear, the origami dragon in the pocket of his robe so that it will be kept safe, and his wand beneath his pillow. It's arguably a very bad idea, but he likes knowing that it's there, close to him.

And, thankfully, he doesn't have a roommate, yet. The boy who'd had the room before him was young, and adopted a few weeks ago, so the room is only his to fill for the time being. Which means he can still pull out his wand and practice once lights have gone out. He's desperately tempted to try out _Lumos_ , but he's also intimidated by the possibilites of what might happen if he does - he doesn't know enough about the wizarding world to test the boundaries just yet - so he sticks to blank wand moments and uses his imagination to create the invisble magic he craves.

He misses it. It's only been a few days, and it's Christmas Eve-Eve-Eve, so he should be getting excited - April has promised a tree to decorate, to sit in the corner of the first floor near the television, and a few of the older kids have asked about baking sugar cookies and shortbread for the ocassion - and he is looking forward to it, more than he expected to.

But he misses magic, misses the low thrum in his veins as he casts a spell correctly, the thrill at just making a light shine from the tip of his wand.

And he misses his friends. He misses Catarina and her kind prescenece, Lily and her brash manner that never fails to make him laugh, Lydia and her quiet contributions; he even misses Ragnor and his witty additions.

Part of him even misses sniping with Lightwood - with Alec. Something had shifted in the library, when they'd pushed past their issues with each other and had spent a few, surprisingly pleasant hours helping each other out. It was a minute shift, and not something he'd noticed until he'd spent some time away from everything - now that he's without any other distractions, he's able to recognise that _something_ had happened.

He doesn't hate Alec. Realistically, he never did. He just hadn't given him a chance, he'd accepted what he'd seen at face value and stuck to it, and in hindsight, it was a bit of a dodgy move.

But he can't just jump into being friends with Lightwood either. That would be disastrous for _both_ of them - no, the best thing would be to take it slow and see if they're even capable of being friends, previous minor prejudices aside.

Of course, he's not going to see Alec, or any of his actual friends, for another torturous week, so reminding himself of the distance isn't helping him. His only hope of making it is ignoring the dull ache in the center of his chest, and focusing on things that don't threaten his tear ducts - like Christmas.

Christmas was always a delicately exciting time. Outside the orphanage, the streets were filled with lights and laughter, carollers and joyful shoppers and the faint smell of mulled wine and cinnamon. The windows would stick with scatterings of white snow, making mismatched patterns he'd try and make pictures out of, head pressed against the windowframe with yearning wanderlust.

Inside, the cheer would be muted, because Ms Dixon disapproved of loud noises - she was always claiming migraines - and the most they'd get was fruit mince pies and lukewarm cocoa from one of the nicer workers, generally behind her back. They'd get a jumper or book, or something otherwise small on Christmas morning, just so they didn't feel completely left out.

Regardless of all that, there was something intoxicating about Christmas, and Magnus could never shake the bristling anticipation, despite how hard he tried or how dull the day would actually be.

He doesn't know what Christmas at Hogwarts would be like. And he has no clue what Christmas will be like this year.

But he can feel the familiar exhiliration sneaking up on him as the day creeps closer, and he has hope, albeit potentially foolish hope, that this year will be different.

Fun, even.

Magnus wakes up on Christmas morning to the sweet smell of vanilla and pine, and an interesting stack on the end of his bed,

There's a small jewellery box, which intrigues him, as well as a stack of letters and a tiny wicker basket with shortbread, a small pot of fruit marmalade, a plush cat and a miniature Christmas tree complete with a gold star and tinsel. It's a strange collection, but Magnus is smiling with half-lidded eyes before he's even properly woken up.

Inside the jewellery box is a woven bracelet of brown leather with threads of gold twine that glint in the light of the morning sun. He traces his fingers over the bracelet, the bumps and grooves - it appears, and feels, homemade, and he gets the feeling that a lot of love was put into it's creation.

There's a small note tucked into the side of the box, a tiny slip of paper that simply reads _For You._ Unlike the note that came with the basket - _To Magnus. Merry Christmas. April_ \- Magnus has no clue who the bracelet came from. He doubts it came from April, as the handwriting looks different - one curt and bold, the other swift and careful - and April doesn't seem like the kind of person who gives a gift wihout signing it.

Curious, Magnus slides the bracelet on, surprised to find it fits perfectly. It wraps around his left wrist like it's meant to be there, like - as ridiculous as it sounds - like it was made for him to wear.

He reaches for the letters, aware of the new addition on his wrist. There's four, and he has a pretty fair idea from whom they come.

Lily's letter is a crisp envelope of multicoloured origami dragons and a small white card that reads _'So you don't forget how awesome I am, while you're stuck in the muggle world.'_ He smiles softly to himself, imagining her fierce concentration when making the paper art, and places it off to the side of his bed with his basket.

Catarina's letter is sweet and kind, wishing him happy holidays and promising him she'll save him a place on the train back to Hogwarts. The whole two pages, front and back, fill him with a sweeping happiness, a reminder that it doesn't matter where he is, he still has friends who care and who will always be waiting when he needs them.

Ragnor's is curt and very to the point, holiday wishes with the doubtful paragraph on muggle Christmases being anywhere as good as wizard ones. It's nothing more than Magnus expected, not that he expected any letter in the first place, and it fills him with the same delight - he doesn't doubt his status of friendship with Ragnor anymore. Their relationship is unconventional, but they care, and that's all that matters.

Lydia's is surprising, because they talk and they're in the same house but they're not as close as he is with the others. It's still an incredibly heartwarming letter, full of good wishes and helpful tidbits about studying in preperation, and he can feel the effort she put into it.

He'll need to hug each and every one of them when he sees them next. Maybe share his shortbread.

This Christmas has already smashed every other Christmas, and he's barely been awake for an hour.

 

* * *

 

Christmas in the Lightwood household carries on as expected.

From their parents, Isabelle receives a detailed history book on the Gryffindor house and it's past - as though they can train her to be suitable for the red and gold house - whereas Alec is handed a new set of woolen pajamas and a motivational poster about the integrity and the necessity of Potions.

Jace, golden boy that he is, receives a brand new, top of the market broom. To help him get onto the Quidditch team faster.

Neither of their parents are shy about their intentions, but they are kind enough to give the three of them enough suitable currency to purchase gifts for each other.

Which is how Alec finds himself wandering the streets of Diagon Alley with Isabelle tugging on his hand and Jace simply wandering off without telling anyone.

He's found a moonstone necklace for Isabelle, and a gift pack of beginners pranks from Weasley's Wizard Wheezes, which he'll give to Jace with the condition that he doesn't use them against Alec, and the warning that if he uses them in a situation where he'll get in trouble, he won't have Alec to save him.

All in all, he's pretty satisfied - he's even got matching notebooks for Clary and Simon, because a lot of the time they act like one entity, with _'Release Your Inner Muggle'_ splashed in colour on the front.

However, just as he's walking out of _Stella's Magical Stationary_ \- a new shop run by a young, bright witch with a personality as loud as Simon's - he spots a flashy card that almost blinds him.

It's gold, like inside of Gringotts gold, with a beautifully drawn Niffler - he and Lydia had gotten into a discussion over the pickpocket creatures and their curiosity over fantastic beasts, so he recognises them easily.

Out of curiosity, and a strange magnetic pull, Alec reaches for the card with cautious fingers. The inside is just as gold, but the message on the right is what catches Alec's attention.

_Sparkle like the inside of a Niffler's pouch._

He has to get it. Sure, he and Magnus were borderline enemies and now barely constitute as friends, but it's so ... it's so _Magnus_ , and for a reason he can't determine, he can't move past it. He has to get it.

Besides, it will be a good sign of peace between them, a good start to a possible friendship. And if things go wrong, and Magnus doesn't like it, or takes offence or something, then at least Alec can say he's tried.

He picks up the card, and takes it back up to the counter, hoping the entire time that Isabelle is too distracted by the window displays to take notice of what he's doing. He has no viable reason other than he can't physically walk away from it.

It's only when he gets home, that Alec realises he doesn't know where Magnus currently is. He recalls Magnus mentioning something about an orphanage, but he doesn't have the details required to send it by owl - providing he'd even be able to sneak an owl out without his parents noticing.

He'll just have to give it to Magnus when they're back at school. And hope even further that Magnus does like it, because getting called out in front of the entirety of Hogwarts doesn't sound like a fun back-to-school activity.

 

* * *

 

There's fireworks sparking in the sky, reds and purples and yellows and whites and more colours than Magnus can count before the exploding pieces fall. The sound is loud and popping and reverberates inside the walls of his heart.

It had been a tough day.

The new school term is starting soon, and although that should be something good for him to focus on, it had been outshone by the taunting questions of some of the older kids.

It's understandable, because in a situation like theirs, stability is not something they can rely upon. And they probably don't attend a school as fun as Hogwarts, so they're not as excited to return as Magnus is. His differences make him stand out as an easy target, because he's not acting as down and sullen as they are.

One of the older kids, Tyrone, had asked him what could be so good about a school that will take him every day of the year except the special ones. Magnus would have loved to pull out his wand and tell the six-foot dreadlocked thirteen-year-old exactly what was so good, but the threat of having his magic taken away from him was too imposing.

He'd mumbled something half-hearted about it being an important school, and in his attempt to squash the bullying before it could get really bad, he'd only ended up fuelling the dim fire and sparking it into something uncontrollable.

All day the cruel smirks and teasing remarks had haunted him, and to make matters worse, he'd felt the ghost of April's heavy gaze every time he was in her line of sight. She'd look at him with sympathy and something he couldn't decipher, and that had only made matters worse, because sure, Magnus had been in this kind of situation before. It's not something he's new to.

But April is, she hasn't seen how mean the kids can be, especially to him, and she tries so hard to keep everything light and fun and to make sure that no one feels down or left out. The amount of work she's done already to turn things around is incredible, and the thanks she gets is watching the children she's in charge of dragging each other down.

She doesn't need that, she's too nice to be tainted by that.

So Magnus has snuck up to the roof of the building, up a creaky flight of stairs and through a heavy metal door that requires the force of all his weight to budge, so that he can watch the fireworks in peace and not have to think about the troubles awaiting him downstairs.

He just has to make it a little longer, and then he'll be back at school, back at Hogwarts where there's more places to run to and more people to back him up. Hogwarts may have Sebastian, but it also has his friends, and if two is better than one, surely a whole group has more power against one slimy weasel.

A cluster of smaller fireworks explode in the sky, and Magnus basks in the light. He wonders how wizards celebrate New Years. Do they have fireworks like muggles do, or are theirs enchanted in some way? He can practically see it, fireworks that move like photographs and tell a story in distorted colourful sky, ones that talk back in crackling voices like the flames of a fireplace.

He might have to ask Catarina, when he sees her. At least if he asks her, he can be sure he'll get a straight and honest answer.

And while he's at it ... he should apologise to Alec. If today has taught him anything productive, it's that he's not helping matters by holding Alec's prior actions against him. He'd retaliated, and he can't expect things to get better if he doesn't try his hand at fixing it.

Alec has already apologised, multiple times if Magnus remembers correctly, and it's only fair that he extend the same courtesy. Hate breeds hate, and bullying encourages more bullying - if he expects kids to be nice to him, he has to be nice in return.

He hates that it means Catarina is right, but then again, he can't recall a time since he's known here when she wasn't.

He just won't tell her that she's right. Keep a sliver of dignity that way.

 

* * *

 

It's their last night, and Isabelle has ordered a fort be set up in the first floor living room. This isn't their first time huddled together under a fort, but it is bittersweet, because they're all aware of what the next day brings, and no one is brave enough to mention it.

Alec and Isabelle construct the fort itself, which involves a lot of Isabelle telling Alec exactly where he should position things, and Alec straightening them into the way they should be when she's not looking - especially the chairs. He's been under too many collapsed forts to risk twisting himself in the sheets and suffocating himself ... again.

While they fight over how to best place the teacup lights - in a way that will leave them simply hanging delicately in the air and not _burning_ them - Jace gathers together the drinks and snacks, because Isabelle cannot be trusted in the kitchen under any circumstance.

Their parents are away, called on an emergency Ministry something or other, and they've taken Max with them, so it's just them, the house elves and Hodge - their ... actually, his proper title is unclear, but he's a family friend who's been around since Alec was born, and who does anything and everything needed for them, he's just ... he's just Hodge.

They've pretty much been left to their own devices, which should be dangerous, but Alec is responsible enough to at least dampen the actions of the other two.

Jace returns just as they're arranging the pillows, and they settle down quite comfortably, Isabelle in the middle, Jace and Alec on either side. They have popcorn and every-flavour beans and small fruit tarts with enchanted cups of pumpkin juice that never empty.

It's looking to be a nice last night, so long as none of them think past the morning.

"I think it would be nice to be sorted into Ravenclaw."

Isabelle plucks at a thread on her cotton robe, her head resting against Alec's shoulder, her feet tucked against Jace's legs. She likes being curled up like this, despite the endless amount of space around them.

"But they're always _studying._ " Jace complains with visible disdain. Alec huffs a quiet laugh.

"I'm always studying too, Jace." Alec reminds him. "That's how to pass the year. It's not a Ravenclaw thing, it's a student thing."

"Yes," Jace points a deliberate finger at Alec. "But you study with that Slytherin girl, Branwell? And she might as well be a Ravenclaw."

Isabelle pokes Jace's leg with her socked foot and frowns, her lips pressed together curiously. "So, does everyone at Hogwarts put so much weight into their houses?"

Alec shrugs, careful not to jostle her too much. "Kind of, yeah. House pride is a very big thing, but I wouldn't worry about it too much." He thinks of Julian and his kind words and his love for Hufflepuff and respect towards all houses despite his Ravenclaw lineage. "Wherever you get sorted, you'll have supportive housemates to help you. Although I wouldn't be surprised if you did get sorted into Gryffindor - or Ravenclaw for that matter. You're certainly smart enough."

Isabelle turns her head, and kisses his cheek with a smile. When she turns back Jace is pouting, his arms crossed over his chest.

"Do you feel left out, Jonathan?" Isabelle asks teasingly. Jace shakes his head, still pouting.

"Don't call me that. I don't feel left out. I'm just annoyed, because if you get sorted into Ravenclaw I'll be all alone-"

"I'm alone." Alec reminds him. "You still manage to find time to irritate me, I'm sure you'll be fine."

Isabelle tugs on Jace's arm, pulling it loose and using it to bring him closer. They end up awkwardly huddled together in a three-part quasi-hug - Isabelle's hair tickling Alec's nose, Jace's elbow locked against Isabelle's ribs, Alec's leg squashed beneath both of theirs. It's messy and jumbled but it fills the room with a warm sense of undeniable happiness, and none of them can find an ounce of care within.

"I don't want you guys to go." Isabelle admits after a few static moments of silence. "It's so lonely here without you."

"You only have a few months left, Iz, and then you can join us." Alec promises, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. "And you'll see so much of us you'll wish we weren't around."

Isabelle shakes her head, pressing further against Alec's chest. "I don't think so."

"I do," Jace pipes up. "I'm already sick of Alec."

A swift turn allows Alec to kick Jace's shin. It's not enough to do any damage, not even a bruise, but it does give Alec the satisfaction of seeing Jace's features contort in frustrated shock.

"How dare you." He mutters darkly, his eyes flashing. "I will hex you-"

"Jace, you couldn't hex a plot plant." Alec rolls his eyes.

He refuses to admit how much he's going to miss the friendly banter, it's not quite the same without Isabelle there as both a buffer and a contributor.

"I bet I could hex a pot plant before both of you," Isabelle declares, defiantly. "Just you wait."

"Hogwarts certainly isn't prepared for you, Iz." Alec acknowledges.

"No one is going to know what hit them." Jace adds.

Isabelle smirks with renewed confidence. "You bet your wands they won't."

They end up falling asleep just like that, curled together as inseperably as possible, holding onto the fleeting moments before they have to seperate.

 

* * *

 

"Okay, we've _really_ got to stop running into each other like this."

Magnus groans, rubbing his forehead as though it will ease the bump likely to form. Across from him, Alec is pushing hair off his own forehead, a flush of red lighting up more than just where they hit each other.

"I'm sorry," Alec pulls at the sleeve of his grey hoodie. It's the colour of storm clouds. Magnus wants to cringe again. "I didn't mean to ... I was trying to find you, but I-"

"It's fine." Magnus waves a hand, cutting Alec off gently. "I'm sure the headache will disappear ... eventually." The end of Alec's sentence strikes him, and he frowns, arms crossing themselves over his chest.

"You were trying to find me?"

Alec shifts his gaze to the carpeted floor of the Hogwarts Express, and then glances back up again, cautiously. "Uh, yeah, I - here." He reaches into his pocket, and pulls out a brown parchment envelope.

He shifts his weight, before holding it out to Magnus, gaze flickering. "This is for you."

Magnus stares at the envelope like it's grown limbs - which part of him is honestly expecting to happen. Such things are slowly ceasing to surprise him anymore - slowly.

"For me?" He asks, stunned. He hardly ever gets gifts, from anyone - Christmas was a luxurious excemption - let alone from someone who used to hate him. Or rather whom he foolishly used to hate.

"Yeah, for you." Alec huffs, and then his mouth quirks up into a hesitant smile. It's kind of nice, to see him not floundering under the weight of his own anxiety. "You don't have to open it yet, but uh - yeah. I saw it and it reminded me of you, so ... yeah."

His smile flickers, what Magnus assumes to be doubt creeping in. "Obviously, if you don't - if you don't like it I understand, I just..."

Magnus squashes down the fleeting irritation and focuses on his wonderous gratitude instead. "Thank you, Alec. Really."

Alec's smile returns in full force. "You're welcome."

He looks like he's about to leave, all jittery limbs and fleeting glances. Magnus decides to stick to what he'd promised himself.

"Hey, Lightwood?"

Alec's visibly surprised, probably at Magnus' fairly nice tone, his eyes wide and jaw a little slack. "Yeah?"

Magnus runs his thumb and forefinger along the seam of the brown envelope. Alec had actually gotten him something, a card by the feel of it, pretty much because he wanted to.

He didn't _have_ to, but he _did_.

"Do you wanna sit with me, and my friends, at breakfast tomorrow?" He asks, trying to remain somewhat aloof. He doesn't handle rejection too well, from anyone. "I know the Slytherin table is a bit, imposing, but we can go over stuff for Potions, if you want?"

Alec nods, smiling loosely. "I'd - I'd like that. Are you sure the others won't mind?"

Magnus shakes his head, laughing softly. "I don't think so. Lydia likes you, Catarina seems pretty fond and Lily doesn't hate you, which is as good as anything. As for Ragnor, he hardly pays enough attention anyway. And the other Slytherins can mind their own business for all I care."

"Okay, then." Alec shoves his hands into his pockets, but he's still smiling, so Magnus takes that as a good sign. "We can - we can work on Charms, too ... I've found that reading over the spells first can help when it comes to performing them."

He pauses, and then shrugs awkwardly. "I mean, that works for me, I don't-"

"I'll see you at breakfast, Alec." Magnus cuts in, before Alec can drown himself in a spiral of stuttered sencences.

"Breakfast. Right." Alec rubs at the back of his neck, before waving curtly. "I'll see you then."

Alec walks off, and Magnus waits for a few seconds, caught up in the whirlwind minutes that had just passed. He thinks that he and Alec ... might actually be, friends, now.

A few months ago, hell, a few weeks ago, he would have laughed at the idea. But as he tears apart the seal of the envelope, he thinks that maybe he was wrong to dismiss Alec so quickly.

 

_Dear Magnus._

_I don't know how your holidays are going, but I hope you're having fun, and that you've gotten some good presents. I know we've had a rocky start, but I'd like it if we could not hate each other anymore. Friends might be too big a committment, but maybe a step in that direction?_

_Anyway, I hope you like the card. Niffler's are pretty interesting creatures, but I won't bore you with my nerdy excitement._

_Merry Christmas._

_\- Alec._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If I don't get to your comments this week, please don't feel disheartened! I'm heading on a road trip with my parabatai and as such won't have a chance to really get back on here until some time next week. <3 
> 
>  
> 
> P.S
> 
> If you haven't already seen it, I highly recommend my absolute sweetheart of a co-author's fic [ 'I'll Love You in a Thousand Lifetimes'](http://archiveofourown.org/works/10421970) because it is undoubtedly the most beautiful thing I have ever read and deserves all the love in the world. <3


	8. Unexpected Friendships

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which the benefits and terrors of London are discussed, Jace gets (his first) detention, and Magnus and Alec bond in the library. Again.

There's something warm about Hogwarts.

Magnus doesn't know whether it's the atmosphere of magic, or the students, or the undeniable beauty of the place, but whatever it is, it's starting to feel like home. Waking up in his bed, in the Slytherin dormitory, feels like home. His daily morning glare from Sebastian feels familiar—and, for once, he can't find it in himself to care, as he moves to get dressed for the day. If Sebastian hates him that much, for absolutely no reason, then that's not Magnus' problem.

He's learnt his lesson. He's not going to waste his life mindlessly despising people who aren't worth his time. It made him miserable and bitter doing it to Alec, and frankly, it's much nicer now they don't hate each other.

What exactly they do have, now, Magnus isn't quite sure. He can't exactly class them as friends, when they barely know each other. But the Christmas card was sweet. If a little bewildering, because he's loathe to admit that he doesn't actually know what a niffler is. He'll have to ask Lydia.

Or—

Well. He supposes he could just ask Alec.

And that... That's a new thought. But it's not unpleasant.

No. It's really quite nice.

***

"I hope you're not planning on disappearing over to the Hufflepuff table," murmurs a voice from behind him, making Alec jump out of his skin.

He turns his head, and sees Magnus behind him, a small smile turning up one corner of his mouth. A flush covers his cheeks. He hadn't intended to go back on his promise the previous evening at all, but a quick scan of the hall had made him aware of the fact that he'd arrived before Magnus.

"Come on," Magnus says, and grabs his arm without preamble, dragging him over to the Hufflepuff table, despite having just told Alec _not_ to go over there.

Magnus pushes him down onto a bench, which is probably just as well, because Alec's brain has apparently gone on strike and decided not to function for the time being. He's not sure how he's so much as maintaining his basic bodily functions.

He's really not sure what to make of Magnus' abruptly changed behaviour. It's giving him whiplash. Three weeks ago, Magnus had been telling Lily how much he hated Alec, and now he's eating breakfast with him, at the Hufflepuff table.

It's bizarre. And a little confusing.

"Why—" Alec blinks when a piece of toast lands on his plate, and looks up at Magnus, who quirks an eyebrow. "I thought— I thought you wanted to go to the Slytherin table. With your friends."

Magnus shrugs. "I'm up early. They're all still moping about in their dormitories. They can join us when they get here." He pauses in spreading jam across his own toast, and then says, "Where's Simon?"

Alec stares at him. "Simon?"

"Yes, Lightwood, Simon Lewis." He smirks. "You know, small, glasses, came up to me to speak in your defence, Clary's best friend? That one."

"He's over there," Alec says, gesturing behind himself at the Gryffindor table, while his mind reels. Simon tried to defend him? In front of Magnus? When on earth was this? And why hadn't he ever mentioned it? "Somewhere. I don't know. He wanted to look at the prank set I got Jace for Christmas." A grimace makes its way across his face, and he cringes a little. "I'm regretting it already. I can't imagine what kind of havoc they're going to wreck."

Magnus just looks at him for a moment, blankly, as though he can't quite process what Alec's just said, and then he _laughs_ , long, and loud, and entirely uninhibited, throwing his head back. Alec gapes. Because he made Magnus laugh like that, because it's so genuine, because it's so... _human_. So normal. So honest.

When Alec had eventually got around to telling Izzy about Magnus, over Christmas, and complained about how ostentatious and showy his attitude was, she'd rolled her eyes at him.

"It's probably self-defence, Alec," she'd said. "People act like that when they've been broken in the past."

Alec doesn't understand how she can be simultaneously ten years old and so intuitive. It's infuriating, because why hadn't he thought about that? Why hadn't he considered that perhaps there would be reason for Magnus' outward behaviour?

But it just makes this, this laugh, this let-down of barriers, so bemusing.

"You got your brother a prank set?" Magnus asks after a few seconds of laughter, still grinning. "That's brilliant." His expression drops before Alec can reply, and he says, "Which reminds me. What exactly _is_ a niffler?"

Alec isn't quite sure why a prank set reminded Magnus of that Christmas card, but he smiles anyway, and says, "It's the thing on the front of the card. Duh."

Magnus' face darkens, and his jaw tightens, and he opens his mouth, presumably to snap something at Alec. But then he freezes, narrowed eyes scanning over Alec's face, and says, "Are you teasing me?"

"Yes," Alec says, smile widening when Magnus sighs in what sounds suspiciously like relief. "I mean, it _is_ the thing on the front of the card, but I'm sure you worked that out. A niffler is a magical creature. They like jewellery and shiny things a lot, and they'll do anything to get their hands on them."

He wants to make some _like you_ sort of joke, but he's not quite brave enough. Especially as it's not really true. Magnus doesn't wear jewellery, or sparkly clothes, from what Alec has seen. Sure, he wears more colour and more form-fitting, branded clothes than Alec does, but that isn't difficult, as Izzy is constantly reminding him. Something about Magnus is just so vibrant.

"They're devilish, but I think they're pretty cute." Alec shrugs. "Izzy wanted one when she was four. Mum and Dad weren't having it."

Magnus swallows a mouthful of toast, and then says, "Izzy? Your sister?"

"Oh—yeah. She's— Yeah." He clears his throat, cheeks burning when Magnus' lips quirk up at Alec's stuttering. Thankfully, Magnus ducks his head, but the damage to Alec's dignity is done. "She's ten. She's really smart, and she's desperate to come to Hogwarts."

"Mm. Are she and Jace your only siblings?"

Magnus seems genuinely interested - that, or he's doing a good impression - so Alec tells him, briefly, about Max. Part of him wants to ask Magnus about his own home, in the muggle world, but the way he'd talked about the orphanage on the train that day makes Alec think that it might be something of a sore spot.

In the end, they don't talk about Potions or Charms, because their conversation is interrupted suddenly by the arrival of Magnus' friends, all of them at once. Alec knows them all, at least by name, but they all look astounded as they glance between himself and Magnus.

Lydia is the first to recover her surprise, and she shoots Alec a smile as she sits down. "Hello, Alec. How was your Christmas?"

"Um. Not too bad, thank you," he says, because he's certain that nobody is interested in his familial angst. "And yours?"

"Hmm." Lydia's eyes are sharp, but gentle, smile unmoving. "Passable. My family was in good spirits, and we spent a ridiculous amount of time ice-skating, but we didn't get any snow, which was terribly disappointing."

"That's because you live in London," Lily says, with a roll of her eyes. "London's boring. And warm, because it's so disgustingly polluted. Come and spend Christmas in the countryside on a farm—it's much nicer. And _clean_. And we actually like our neighbours, even if they are muggles. We don't complain about their business suit choices and sniff at their transport habits. We just play with their dogs and feed their sheep."

Lydia scoffs. "London is fascinating, thank you very much. Just because you've never _been_ to London—"

"I don't need to go to London to know everyone there is miserable and moody. Everyone says so. Besides, London's so noisy, and so busy, and you never turn all your goddamn lights off. How are you supposed to sleep?"

"London's nice," Alec says, a little bit quietly, and he feels every set of eyes turn on him. He's particularly aware of Ragnor Fell's scrutinising gaze, and he squirms uncomfortably under the Ravenclaw's appraisal. "I mean, it's not perfect, and I like the countryside too, but it's...fun. It never stands still."

"Thank you," Lydia says emphatically, as though Alec's agreement proves her point entirely, and leaves no room for argument. It warms his heart.

"I thought you lived outside of London," Lily mutters, and shoots him a glare of sheer betrayal.

Alec holds his hands up, and sees Magnus grinning in his peripheries. "I do. We had snow. But I mean...I live close to London."

"London's terrifying," Ragnor says, voice deadpan. He's got a book with him, Alec notices, but it's shut, set on the table to one side. Turning to Catarina, he says, "Remember when your parents took us to the London Dungeons?"

Catarina smirks. "Just because you're a scaredy-cat—"

"I am not." Ragnor rolls his eyes, and turns conspiratorially to the rest of the table. Alec doesn't think he's ever seen him this animated—although he doesn't know Ragnor, of course, he gets the impression that he's a bit of a bookworm, and not particularly talkative. Unlike Magnus. "Some insane man running at us screaming with an axe warranted fear, I assure you. It was terrifying."

"It was fun," Catarina says, and elbows Ragnor in the ribs. "You two must have been," she says, nodding to Alec and Lydia.

They both reply in the affirmative (Jace had been desperate to go, even though their parents had been less than pleased at his interest in muggle activities) and Alec can't help but think about how nice it is that Magnus' friends have just hooped him into the conversation, without questioning his presence. Sure, he's already on good terms with Lydia, and he's fairly sure Lily likes him (although it's hard to tell, because she seems to hate everyone) but he's never spoken a word to Catarina or Ragnor, and Magnus outright hated him a few weeks ago.

"Magnus," Lily says, because the table is divided, but turning in London's favour with three against two. "London's awful, don't you think?"

Magnus shrugs. "Never been. Orphanage trips don't really extend more than twenty miles away."

"Yes, okay, but you can still know it's awful. It breeds sleazy muggle politicians and has too much traffic to breathe."

"But it's also supposed to be historically and culturally beautiful," Magnus says, with another diplomatic gesture of neutrality. "So, again, I don't know. I can't form an opinion of something I've never experienced."

"We'll take you to London sometime," Catarina says, patting his arm. Ragnor mutters darkly under his breath about personal space and over-heated public transport, and she shoots him a glare. "Won't we, Lydia? Alec?"

Alec startles at being included, but he nods, a little late but enthusiastically nonetheless, while Lydia smiles widely, and starts talking about all the attractions they could go to—half of which, apparently, are right on her front door.

(He's not the only one with stupidly rich parents, clearly.)

And, alright, he's not really doing that much talking in this conversation, but he's here, and Magnus' friends are acknowledging that he's here, and it makes something warm and glowing settle in the centre of his chest. Because they barely know him. But they don't care. They're making him feel like he's welcome with them.

He meets Magnus' gaze across the table. The Slytherin boy offers him one of those small, careful smiles, the sort that tells Alec that Isabelle was absolutely right in her assessment. It makes Alec curious to know what lies behind the bravado.

So he returns Magnus' smile, and decides that he's going to get to know Magnus. He's going to learn about who he is, and what made him who he is, and all the things he hopes to be.

And, one day, he thinks he might even be able to call Magnus a friend.

***

Alec's goodbye that morning is shy, but pleased, and Magnus feels a fleeting impression of fondness in his chest. Which is ridiculous, because they've only been on speaking terms for a little more than a fortnight, and this is the first time they've voluntarily spent time together than wasn't entirely coincidental, but it's there nonetheless.

While Magnus watches Alec hurry off down the corridor towards Transfiguration, he finds himself with two smirking girls on either side of him. Lily and Lydia have practically identical looks of smirking glee on their faces - although Lydia's is, admittedly, more muted - and they hook their arms through his.

"So," Lily says, and raises her eyebrows.

"Alec isn't so bad after all?" Lydia asks, and, alright, she only lifts one eyebrow at him rather than both, but the identical expressions they're wearing are bloody terrifying. How can two such different people look so similar?

"Maybe," Magnus says, with a shrug. "He's alright."

Catarina scoffs from behind him. "Yes, he's 'alright', that's why you invited him to breakfast."

Magnus shoots a scowl over his shoulder. "He's alright," he repeats. "I am reserving further judgement."

"Like you did before?" Ragnor asks.

"I hate you," Magnus announces, perhaps a little loudly, as several third year Hufflepuffs turn to frown at him. "All of you. You're all horrible to me."

"Nah." Lydia grins at him, and Lily elbows him in the ribs. "You like us really."

"Deep down," Magnus concedes, but he can't help the smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. "Where I can't hear your rudeness."

And, okay, walking into a classroom to see Sebastian and Camille staring at him with disdain in their eyes isn't particularly pleasant. But Lily and Lydia don't let go of him, and he can hear Catarina and Ragnor's steady bickering behind him, and it's achingly familiar, it's comforting, and the weight lifted from his heart by his making up with Alec has left him with a self-will he didn't have before.

Sebastian smirks at him when he sits down at a desk with Lily, Lydia sitting right in front of them with another Ravenclaw boy he's seen her chatting to in the library. But Magnus doesn't care. He tips his chin up, and shoots Sebastian the sweetest smile he can; it turns his twisted smirk into a more uncertain sneer.

 _Victory_. Magnus turns his attention to Professor McGonagall when she raps her wand against the blackboard, and even her brusque manner of teaching, her well-hidden care for all her students, is calming.

He's only been at Hogwarts for a few months, and yet, somehow, it's already enough for the place to feel like home in a way that orphanage never has. Because even now, even with the addition of April, he feels distinctly other in that place.

But here? Surrounded by his friends, his teachers, even his enemies?

Here, he feels like he belongs.

***

"Hey."

Simon turns when Alec touches his shoulder, tentatively, drawing his attention away from Clary and Jace arguing about nothing of consequence, just like they always do.

"I, um." Alec swallows. "I was talking to M— to Bane, earlier."

Simon blinks. "You mean at breakfast? Yeah, we noticed. Are you two friends, now? Because if we can be done with the excessive hatred and the glaring across the corridors and the stupid angst, I'm all for it. In fact, I—"

"Simon." Alec's lips quirk up. "We're not exactly friends, but I think- I think we might be going that way. But anyway." He rolls his eyes. "I heard that you spoke to him. About me."

"Oh." To Alec's fascination, red rises up Simon's neck, and he clears his throat awkwardly. "Yeah. Um. That did happen. A while ago. I think. Yeah. It— Yeah."

"It was nice of you," Alec says. "Thank you."

And, because he can't stand the astounded look Simon gives him, nor the broken ramblings bound to result, Alec shoots him a half-smile, and then strides off to catch up with Jace and Clary.

He doesn't see Simon's grin—but he does hear the shouted, "I knew you didn't really hate me, Lightwood!"

And if it makes him smile, nobody has to know but him.

***

To everyone's astonishment but Magnus', apparently, their first Defence Against the Dark Arts lesson finds Alec and Magnus at a desk together, Magnus having dumped his stuff down beside Alec upon walking in, while Lily and Lydia go over to curiously ambush Simon.

"I never asked," Magnus says, while they copy down the notes Aldertree has written on the board. "How was your Christmas? With your parents?"

Alec blinks, and he looks momentarily confused. Magnus pretends not to notice.

"It was...okay. I mean, it was really nice to catch up with my sister, but my parents weren't very happy. I expected it, though. I'd prepared myself."

Magnus cuts his eyes across to Alec, and sees the dark-haired Lightwood with his eyes fixed on the half-filled parchment, face mostly hidden. He wonders how much it hurts, all that parental disappointment. It's one of the few things Magnus is grateful for, not having to deal with anything like that. He hasn't got anyone in the world to disappoint, except himself.

Although, perhaps he's beginning to care about disappointing his friends, at Hogwarts.

"Are you okay?" Magnus asks, because he's fairly sure, from the shuttered look on Alec's face and the tightness of his jaw, that the answer is no.

For several seconds, Alec is silent, and Magnus thinks he's going to ignore the question, pretend he didn't hear it. It's quiet between them, save for the irregular scratching so of their quills. Maybe he's pushing too hard, too soon. They're not friends, after all.

Even if, after only a handful of days into their second term, it's getting hard to remember that. He feels like something is just clicking between them. Alright, sometimes there are moments of awkwardness, but mostly, it's so easy, hanging out with Alec. It's uncomplicated. Alec is such an unusual person, with infinite layers behind well-constructed walls, but spending time with him is the most straight-forward thing Magnus can image. They just sort of...exist together.

He keeps reminding himself that even if he would find it fairly natural to label Alec a friend, Alec most likely doesn't think the same thing.

"It's better, being here," Alec says, abruptly, snapping Magnus out of his thoughts. "It was hard. Everything I said made them more disappointed in me. They didn't even try to hide it. I'm not in Gryffindor. Potions is my worst subject. I did okay in the Quidditch trials, but it's Hufflepuff, so who cares, right? I'm just– I'm so different to them, and Jace is exactly what they want me to be, and it—"

Alec stops himself, biting down hard on his lower him, and although his rant was quiet, desperately sad rather than passionately angry, Magnus glances up to reassure himself that nobody has been listening: it's too personal for people like Sebastian to be hearing it. It's too personal for _him_ to be hearing it, really. Maybe Alec has reached the end of his tether, and is just spewing out his feelings to the first person who'll listen.

Magnus thinks it's probably the most likely explanation for why he's confiding in Magnus, of all people.

"It hurts," Alec says, voice so low it's almost a whisper, and he resolutely doesn't look at Magnus. He's stopped writing, and is instead gazing at his parchment unblinkingly. Magnus can't see, can't tell from this angle, but he thinks there might be tears in Alec's eyes.

"I'm sorry," Magnus says, and god, it feels woefully inadequate, but he's not sure what else he can say to that. He doesn't like Alec's parents. He's never met them, but they're clearly stupid people. Probably bigoted idiots, too. Who the hell makes their child feel so horribly miserable for their school house or what their worst subject is? It's like hating someone for their favourite flavour of ice cream.

Alec shakes his head, and offers Magnus a controlled smile that doesn't reach his eyes. "It's okay. It's fine. I'm sorry for ranting at you. I didn't mean to let that all out."

"Don't worry," Magnus says.

He wants to touch Alec's hand, wants to offer him comfort, but he's not really sure how, and he knows it probably wouldn't be accepted. Magnus is a tactile person by nature, but an orphanage isn't really the kind of place that fosters such things; he has little experience in casual touches. He suspects Alec isn't an overly touchy person, anyway.

"Look, Lightwood, I know it's not my place, but if it's any consolation, it seems like this is the perfect opportunity to prove your parents wrong. At least from where I'm sitting."

Alec frowns. "What do you mean?"

"Well, they think you're– What? Not going to do as well as Jace, just because you're in Hufflepuff? That's rubbish. Prove them wrong. You're getting good grades, right? And okay, Potions isn't your strong point, but who cares? That's one damn subject."

"They care," Alec tells him, but there's a little more light in his eyes, and it makes Magnus' chest tighten with excitement.

"I'm a very petty person," Magnus says, with a conspiratorial smirk. "I'm all for spiting ridiculous people by proving them wrong. We can make our impromptu Charms-Potions study session a regular thing. Weekly. Bi-weekly. I could use the help, and so could you. And you'll get one over on your parents. Two - three - birds with one stone. What do you say?"

Alec stares at him for a long, hard moment, and Magnus thinks he's going to say no. But then a smile spreads across his face, small and uncertain, at first, and then bolder, wider, until it threatens to crack his face.

"Yeah," he says, eyes shining shyly. "Yeah, I'd like that."

They smile at each other, the moment stretching out, before the moment is broken by Aldertree's voice ringing out across the classroom, calling them to attention.

Magnus really doesn't know what it is about Alexander Lightwood, because they're clearly such different people, from entirely contrasting backgrounds, but he can't help but feel, from a mere few days of friendliness, like he might just have found a long-term friend and confidante.

***

Two weeks into term, Alec is sitting at the Gryffindor table, with Jace, Clary, and Simon, as always, but also—also with Lily and Lydia. He's not quite sure how it happened. They'd caught each other in the corridor, and started talking, and before they'd known it, they'd been in the Great Hall, the smell of lamb hotpot wafting from the tables; when Jace had hollered at him and Clary had waved him over with a bright smile, Lily and Lydia had just...come with him.

Lydia fits in seamlessly. And Lily... Well. Lily's a little hard to warm to, he knows. And he's fairly sure that Jace is more taken aback by her brusque manner than he'd care to admit, but it's nice. Having Lydia - who he's fairly sure he can class as a friend, at this point, with how much time they spend in the library together - and Lily - whom he's not quite sure he can proclaim his friend yet, but whom he certainly likes - at the Gryffindor table with him, and with his other friends, and—

It's nice. It really is.

He finds his eyes sliding over Jace's shoulder as Lily makes a wonderfully scathing remark at his brother's expense, towards the Slytherin table. It takes him a moment to locate Magnus. He's sitting with Ragnor, and he's doing that little grin, the one that means he's teasing (and god, how has he come to recognise that expression so quickly?) and Ragnor is rolling his eyes. Alec doesn't know where Catarina is, but he supposes she's probably with some of her Ravenclaw friends.

A hand rests lightly on Alec's shoulder. He jumps, snapping out of his thoughts, and turns to see Julian standing behind him, Emma beside him with her arm hooked through his, a smile on his face. Julian always seems to be cheerful.

Julian is the sort of person Alec aspires to be, frankly. Well. He is, perhaps, significantly more optimistic than Alec could ever manage, and Alec knows he's a little too fond of sarcasm to be that kind-hearted, but Julian's whole outlook on life is admirable. And it's so very different to anything Alec's seen in any adult he knows.

(Alright, Julian's not quite an adult, but he is practically. He's enough of an adult for Alec to look up to.)

"Hi, Emma!" Jace pipes up, from the other side of the table, flashing the Gryffindor Quidditch captain one of his award-winning, white-teeth smiles. Lily rolls her eyes and mutters something under her breath that makes Clary curl over the table in a fit of giggles that she seems to fight hard to keep quiet.

Emma grins at him, and leans into Julian's side lazily. "Hello, Lightwood."

"We just wanted to let you know," Julian says, "we're running a friendly Quidditch match tomorrow, for the first and second years to get some game practise. You're welcome to come, if you'd like." His eyes flicker over all their faces, but Alec is very aware of the fact that he's the one being addressed. It makes his cheeks heat up a little.

"You too, Jace," Emma adds. "We've got to thrash the Ravenclaws next year, so I want your skills honed."

"Emma," Julian chastises her, with a fond roll of his eyes.

"What? Come on, Jules, they're way too far ahead this year. Do you want to lose the cup in your last year?"

"I'd rather lose to you than to them," Julian admits, and kisses her cheek. "Anyway, we're off. Don't feel obliged, but you're invited. Both of you."

Lily narrows her eyes at him. "Can we come?" She gestures to herself and Lydia, and Julian blinks at her.

"I don't see why not," he says. "The more the merrier."

***

Jace is fuming when he sits down at lunch the next day.

Alec hasn't seen him this angry for months—not since long, long before they began their year at Hogwarts. The table creaks when he slams his bag down with unnecessary force, and Alec winces at how hard he's grinding his teeth together.

"Woah." Clary is staring at him, wide-eyed. "Jace, are you okay?"

"No," he snarls. He snatches a ham sandwich from the enormous pile held on a silver plate in the middle of the table, and tears into it with his teeth. "Goddamn Morgenstern," he spits out, once he's swallowed. "He's such a _jerk_."

"What happened?" Clary asks, taking the words right out of Alec's mouth. "And god, slow down. You're going to choke."

Jace rolls his eyes, but he does as she says. He takes a deep, calming breath, and Alec wonders at the effect Clary has on his brother. Not even Izzy can get him out of these sorts of rages, usually.

(Although, Clary's also fairly capable of putting him in bad moods. They seem to argue near-constantly, even if they make up pretty quickly. It's a source of unending frustration for Alec and Simon, although it can be somewhat amusing, at times.)

"I've got detention," Jace says, with a huff.

"Man," Simon says, whistling. "That sucks."

Jace shoots him a dirty look, but manages not to turn his anger on the undeserving Simon. "He spent the entire lesson making remarks about Clary–" Clary raises her eyebrows "–and then when I knock his inkwell over so it spills onto his homework, obviously I'm the bad guy, here."

"He was making remarks about me?" Clary asks, a furrowed between her eyes. "Really?"

"Yeah." Jace rubs a hand over his tired eyes. "You, and Alec."

Alec blinks in surprise. "Me? What did I do? I've never even spoken to him at school."

"I don't know. He's just a moron. He was citing you as an example to crap all over Magnus Bane. It was all complete tosh."

"Oh." Alec presses his lips together, withholding the urge to turn round and search for Magnus in the sea of people in the hall. He doesn't know what Sebastian has against Magnus, but it's relentless. Jace isn't the only one who's heard him insulting Magnus—usually behind his back. Alec's heard it too. God, Sebastian's stupid comments were what stirred the hatred between Magnus and Alec in the first place.

"So, yeah. I've got detention on Friday, with McGonagall. She'll probably have me scrubbing toilets or something."

"Well, at least it was for something like this, not you being dumb," Clary says, a little smile quirking at her lips. "If you have to get a detention, it's better this than, I don't know, jinxing Alec because he's smarter than you."

Alec chokes, and Jace splutters with indignation, and Simon sniggers. Alec finds himself smiling, albeit somewhat shyly, while Jace protests Clary's comment.

"Hey, Jace," Simon says, suddenly, interrupting Jace and Clary's bickering before it can fully start up. "You know, if you want to get one over on Morgenstern, we should get some use out of that prank set Alec got you."

Jace blinks. "We?"

"Yeah." Simon's determined expression doesn't falter. "You and me. Muggles are good at pranks. We get bored at school. Have you ever done the thing where you throw wet toilet paper at the ceiling and watch it drop on people's heads while they're in the cubicle?"

An expression of utter bewilderment crosses Jace's face for a moment. "Why on earth would you do that?"

Simon shrugs. "Kids are cruel. And it's fun when you don't like the person who's getting splatted. So. What do you say to pranking Morgenstern?"

A smile is slowly making its way onto Jace's face, and he taps his hand against the table. "Yeah," he says, and then a grin lights up his eyes. "Yeah. That sounds like a really, really great idea."

***

That evening, Alec leaves Simon, Jace and Clary to go off to the Gryffindor common room, under the pretence of going to the library to get his Herbology homework done in quiet. He's fairly sure he wasn't fooling Simon, who constantly complains about how organised he is with his work and who knows full well that he did that essay days ago, but he hadn't commented, to Alec's gratitude.

It's not a complete lie. He does trek up the smooth staircases steps to the library, and he has brought homework, but he's not there to do it. At least, not to begin with. The homework is a fallback. An excuse.

It's not a Tuesday, which means it's not his and Magnus' weekly Potions-Charms study session, so he has no real reason to be looking for Magnus. But he is. That's exactly what he's doing.

He's not quite sure why he thinks Magnus is going to be in the library, between all the towering shelves of well-thumbed books and musty old newspapers, but his gut is telling him that he might be lucky. That Magnus might just be here.

And, apparently, someone is looking down on him favourably, because when he walks slowly down towards the quieter end of the library, he sees Magnus sat at a table.

It's one of Alec's favourite spaces in the castle. He adores the library, in and of itself, because there's so much knowledge to be breathed in, and such an atmosphere of awed learning is one he can't get enough of. But he particularly loves these tables at this end. They're each positioned in a little alcove formed by bookcases being set a mere couple of metres apart, separating an individual table from the rest of the library and giving the illusion of a little privacy. A window sits to one side, sunlight streaming in during the day and moonlight casting soft shadows in dimly light corners at night.

Magnus, himself, is sat with his chair angled just slightly towards the window, books spread open on the table, a quill held loosely in his hand and a piece of parchment covered from top to bottom in smooth, looping handwriting directly in front of him.

He's staring into space, at some invisible point on the far edge of the table, body entirely still. It's a little odd. Magnus is always moving, even when he's not supposed to be. He's restless, full of energy and colour and spirit.

Just not today.

Alec curls the fingers of one hand around the strap of his bag, and swallows around his apprehension. He's got no reason to be here. Magnus might tell him to get lost and leave him alone. Because, yes, they've been spending a bit of time together, recently, and they've been talking like civilised people - chatting and laughing, even - but they're not...friends. Not really. Not _this_ kind of friends.

But Alec is realising that maybe he wants them to be.

He takes a deep, calming breath, gripping his bag tightly, and then he steps forward, into the little shelter and towards the table. Magnus doesn't look up as he approaches, clearly stuck somewhere deep in his own head. Alec can sympathise.

"Hey," Alec says, and his voice cracks. He'd meant it to be quiet, but instead, it comes out hoarse, and he has to clear his throat.

Magnus looks up, blinking like Alec's awoken him from a dream, and surprise flashes through his eyes momentarily. "Hey. Sorry, I didn't see you. Did you want something? Trouble with Potions? Ask Lydia, she's done the last homework. If you got set the same one."

Alec bites his lip, and indicates the empty chair opposite Magnus. "Can I sit?"

"Yeah. Let me—" Magnus reaches out to move some of his books, but Alec shakes his head.

"It's okay."

Magnus arches an eyebrow at him in question, and Alec sees the little spark of curiosity deep in his eyes. "Is there a particular reason you're ambushing me in the library?"

Alec, of course, flushes at that. "No, I– I'm sorry. I didn't mean– This wasn't meant to be—"

"I'm teasing you, Lightwood," Magnus tells him, and one corner of his mouth curls up. "But I would love to know why I've been deigned with your presence."

Alec rolls his eyes, but he smiles, because this time, he knows Magnus is joking. Well. He knew he was being teased before. Or he would have done, if he'd thought about it. He'd just reacted with embarrassment before logical thought could take hold in his mind.

"I, um." He swallows. "Jace told me he got detention, earlier."

"Ah, yes." Magnus looks a little uncomfortable, but mostly, he just seems confused at the direction in which the conversation is going. "Yes, I heard. I have to say, I was on his side. But then, I would be. You know I don't like Morgenstern."

"I do," Alec agrees. "I don't like him either. At all."

"I know," Magnus says, and he smiles a little bit. Alec can't help but smile back, before he clears his throat to continue.

"Jace also told me that he'd been talking rubbish about Clary, and about you. And earlier, I saw him saying something to you when you came out of Charms, and whatever it was, you didn't took very happy, and then you seemed kind of sad at dinner, and I just—" Alec pauses for breath, because he's talking too fast, and Magnus probably can't understand a word he's saying. "I guess I just wanted to ask if you're okay."

Magnus looks stunned at the words, and, for several seconds that seem to stretch out into an eternity, he's silent, lips slightly parted, staring at Alec in clear, unbridled astonishment.

"You want to know if I'm okay?" Magnus asks, at last.

Alec shrugs. "Well, you asked me if I was okay. In our first Defence Against the Dark Arts lesson after Christmas."

Magnus just looks at him again, seemingly a little lost. "I suppose I did." He concedes the point, but it doesn't seem to clear his bewilderment.

"Look, I just— I know you're one of those people who pretends to be fine when they're not, because I do it too. I mean, we clearly do it in different ways, but we still do it. And it's obvious to me that you're not okay, so I just— I don't know. You don't always have to be okay, you know? You can...not be okay. And you can talk about it." He shrugs. "At least, that's what Izzy always tells me."

A little smile tips up the corners of Magnus' lips again, and it eases the band of self-conscious fear that gripped Alec as he spoke. Because he's sort of putting himself on the line a little, here. He's pushing the bounds of their tentative little friendship. He doesn't want it to snap, but he can't help but worry that it will: that he's pushing too hard.

"Your sister is clearly wise beyond her years," Magnus says, and it's such a stupid thing for an eleven-year-old to say that Alec nearly laughs.

It's so _Magnus_.

"Sebastian doesn't really bother me," Magnus says, tracing an invisible pattern across the smooth hardwood table, eyes following his finger. There are little graffiti sketches that have been scratched into the varnish by bored students over many, many years covering the top, and Alec wonders, for a split second, at the story behind them all. "Not in and of himself, at least. He's just one idiot. It's not like I haven't got friends here. I have." He lifts his gaze to look at Alec. "I've always dealt with people like Sebastian. And people worse than him. Orphanages have a lot kids from broken homes with shattered souls, and something about me always branded me as different. I always got - get - the brunt of their bad behaviour. I don't know whether it's my skin colour, or that they think I'm posh or came from somewhere rich because I'm well-spoken, or just something innate about me that brands me as different. But I've always had that kind of thing."

Magnus is quiet for a moment, but Alec can sense that he's not done, as his gaze drops back down to the table, so he stays silent, and waits for the other boy to finish.

"When I came to Hogwarts, I thought maybe there wouldn't be people like that. I thought maybe the magic was the part of me that the other kids could sense, and that made them pick on me. But Sebastian makes me realise that it's not that. It can't be. It's just...something about me that's different. Something people don't like."

Magnus shrugs, and it's so nonchalant, so dismissive, it makes Alec's heart hurt.

"Do you know who Hermione Granger is?" Alec asks, softly.

"Yeah. Cat told me about her."

Magnus' eyes flicker up to meet Alec's gaze; there's something so very vulnerable about the expression held in them. Alec doesn't know Magnus well enough to read it, but it's raw, and it's unfiltered, and he realises that Magnus is a boy made up of hundreds and hundreds of layers that he's built up around his heart—layers Alec has barely scratched the surface of.

"Well, when people, including my parents, kept trying to criticise what she's been doing at the Ministry, to change the way people consider those who're different - muggles, squibs, house elves, magical creatures - she said that people lash out at things that are different because they're afraid. And they're afraid of things that are different because they question all our long-held beliefs. They make people think. They break the norm. And people are afraid of that, because, more often than not, what they see awes them, and they're terrified to admit that perhaps they were wrong. So rather than embracing what's beautiful, they vilify it, because if these things are ugly, nobody can ever accuse them of being wrong. They're protected. They're protecting themselves, because they can't allow themselves to be wrong."

There's silence between them when Alec finishes speaking. Magnus' eyebrows are tilted, his eyes soft and liquid and vulnerable, and Alec can see his throat shifting a little as he swallows. Twice. Alec wonders whether that was too much. Whether he's crossed that invisible line so resolutely drawn between them.

"That's kind of you to say," Magnus says, eventually. "That's—" He clears his throat. "Thank you."

It's too tense. Too charged. Magnus looks too on-edge, like he's been stripped off too many layers at once without his consent, and Alec can't stand the look on his face. He doesn't know what to do with it. He doesn't know Magnus well enough to know how to soothe such raw exposure. And he wouldn't dare try, without being sure that Magnus would accept the balm he might offer to his siblings, in this sort of situation.

So he tries to shatter the silence. He tries to lighten the darkness a little. He bites his lower lip, and says, "I mean, sometimes people are just assholes."

Magnus' lips quirk, and he lets out a little huff of a laugh. The walls are hauled back up, and the shutters close back over his eyes, barring any peeking into the depths of his heart and soul, but that's okay, Alec thinks. He wouldn't want Magnus looking at the darkest parts of him.

He's about to say something, about to change the subject away from such heaviness that he's not sure how to proceed with, when he catches sight of golden-blonde hair flashing up by the bookshelves further up in the library.

"Damnit," Alec says.

"What's wrong?"

"Jace is over there," Alec says, jerking his head towards where Jace - and now Simon, but notably not Clary - are standing together, flicking through some thick, well-used book.

Magnus' expression closes off even more, and Alec realises that his statement has been misinterpreted. Those eyes, saturated with emotion a mere moment ago, turn frosty, coated with a sheet of ice, and it sends twisting snakes of anxiety through his stomach.

"You'd better go, then," Magnus tells him. "If you want to avoid any awkward interactions."

"I—"

"Go. It's fine. I don't mind." (It's clear that he does.) "I wouldn't want you to feel uncomfortable."

"Look, Bane—" Magnus starts talking again, and he gestures sharply, and god, Alec has had enough. " _Magnus_."

That makes him stop. Abruptly.

Alec shakes his head at him, and runs fingers through his hair. "I'm not...uncomfortable about Jace knowing we're talking, or whatever. I'm pretty sure he's noticed anyway. Why would I care?"

"He's a golden-boy Gryffindor. I'm a Slytherin."

"This is the twenty-first century," Alec says, before Magnus can make any kind of ridiculous conclusion. "He was the one who kept telling me I was totally out of line, that day with Sebastian."

Something odd, unreadable, flickers through Magnus' eyes, when Alec brings up the day that had begun their months of mutual hatred.

"I'm sorry." Magnus lets a small, melancholy smile full of apology cross his face. "That day, when you heard me talking to Lily, when I said you were—" He stops, and shakes his head a little. "I never apologised for that."

Alec shrugs it off, although he can't help the way his heart twists behind his ribs at the memory. It had only been a few sentences of Magnus' rant that he'd caught, then, but it had been enough to hurt. It had left him feeling awful all day.

"It's okay," Alec tells him, honestly, because it is. It wasn't, all those weeks ago, but it is now. He doesn't need to hear Magnus grovel to know that he's changed his opinion of Alec at least somewhat. "How about— How about we put that behind us? I mean, I've apologised, you've apologised, I forgive you—"

"I forgive you, too," Magnus interjects, when Alec falters questioningly. "And I think that's a fantastic idea. I like the way you think, Lightwood."

Alec grins at him. "Likewise, Bane."

He's not quite sure why they're still calling each other by their surnames most of the time. He doesn't think of Magnus as _Bane_ in his head. It's archaic, that custom. But it's fun. It's teasing. It's silly. It's like an inside joke they've mutually, non-verbally decided to utilise for all it's worth.

It is, Alec is hesitant to think, a mark of friendship.


	9. Introspection (And Quidditch)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Quidditch is played, pep talks are had, and there may or may not be a hug.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> not going to lie, guys - this includes shameless high school music references
> 
> There isn't much I can say about this chapter that won't spoil it - but I hope you enjoy it!!

"Is there a spell for added patience?" Magnus grumbles, flopping onto the bench of the Slytherin table. He's later than most mornings - everyone seems to have migrated to their corner of the bench, all except for Simon and Jace, interestingly enough.

He thought they couldn't stand each other. Then again, he's only recently been able to stand Alec, so maybe they've had a change of heart too.

"What did Slimeball do today?" Lily asks, poking at a buttery waffle.

"Slimeball?" Alec echoes, turning to her in confusion.

Lily stares at him like she's actually disappointed in him. Magnus hides a grin behind his hand.

"I think she's talking about Sebastian." Magnus clarifies, watching the understanding cross Alec's face, closely followed by embarassment. "And nothing terrible, just irritating." He reaches into his pocket and pulls out a tie - or rather, half of a tie, as the end has been sliced in half rather crassly, jagged fabric cut on an awkward angle.

Magnus sighs, dumping what's left of his tie on the table. "I know I have more, but it's just annoying."

Alec smiles sympathetically at him from across the table. Next to him, Lydia frowns, picking up the garment, inspecting it with a critical eye. Magnus leaves her to her investigation. He'd rather not think about it anymore.

"Hey, Alec." Lily pokes him with her fork. To his credit, Alec doesn't seem all that bothered by the jabbing. "Isn't the Hufflepuff captain holding that Quidditch thing today?"

"Julian?" Alec nods. "Yeah, with Emma, the Gryffindor captain. Are you still interested in it?"

"Naturally." Lily points her fork threateningly at him. "Be prepared to lose, Lightwood. Lydia and I are going to throw you off your broomstick so hard you'll be scared to get back on."

Lydia looks up, eyes flicking between Alec and Lily. "I'm just going to play Quidditch. I'm not interested in terrifying Alec."

Lily shrugs dismissively. "He'll be fine."

Alec looks distinctly torn as the conversation carries on. Magnus reaches across the table and pats his hand kindly. It's not a move he puts a lot of thought into, he just does it, and by the awed look on Alec's face, it's not a bad one.

"If it's any consolation, I'll be cheering them on." Magnus quips.

Alec picks up on his teasing note, and nods solemnly. "I expected nothing less." He admits. He's smiling in a hidden sort of way, one that feels oddly personal. Magnus smiles back, and then turns his attention to breakfast because, as his stomach reminds him, he hasn't actually eaten anything in almost twelve hours.

"I'm both supporting everyone and no one." Catarina states. Magnus scoffs. Trust her to pick the neutral, diplomatic standpoint.

"What about you, Ragnor?" Magnus asks. "Who will you support?"

Ragnor flips a page of his book, toast held at a precarious distance in his other hand. "Depends on who is the better player. So far, my bets are on Alec, but I'm reserving proper support until I have more information."

Alec ducks his head, staring intently at his hands, fidgeting above his plate. There's heat creeping up his neck, but Magnus graciously pretends not to notice - he's already embarassed enough, and they're friends now, which means he has to learn how to be nice to Alec, not an arse.

"Technically," He pipes up, because he can't help himself. "Your bet is on who is better out of the captains. They're more experienced than this lot."

Lily glares at him, but he brushes it off. He's been at the receiving end of her glare enough times to not really be affected by it anymore.

"Magnus," Lydia interrupts before Lily can speak, still holding his tie. "When you found this, where was it?"

"The floor." Magnus presses his lips together firmly. "In the disgraced state you currently find it in."

Lydia plays with the frayed ends of the fabric. Alec leans over, and apparently notices whatever she does, because his expression contorts, sharing a quick knowing glance with her.

"Care to fill me in?" He asks, drily. Just because he's used to feeling left out, doesn't mean he enjoys it.

"This has been cut with magic," Alec mutters quietly. "That's-"

"It's serious," Lydia finishes for him. She looks at Magnus, distant sympathy in her steel blue eyes. "Using magic to destroy another student's property - you really should take this to Headmistress McGonagall, or even Professor Longbottom."

Alec nods along with her. Magnus hasn't seen him so serious before. It's making him feel a little uncomfortable. "This isn't a joke, or some harmless prank, Magnus. If Sebastian continues like this-" He swallows, looking - frankly - as uncomfortable as Magnus feels. "You could get hurt."

Magnus is a little surprised to hear that Alec cares so much. Sure, he cares a bit, because that's the kind of person he is, and they're friends now - Magnus cares about Alec too. In the way one does about a new friend.

Alec sounds almost pained by the thought of Magnus getting hurt.

"Okay," He whispers. "I'll talk to Professor Longbottom after Herbology. I don''t really want to bring Headmistress McGonogall in just yet. You could be wrong, it could be nothing."

Though he seriously doubts that both Alec and Lydia - and Ragnor by his quizzical gaze - are wrong. They're too smart to be wrong.

 

* * *

 

"But if you're using wizard tricks on wizards, won't they be able to figure it out? That store you got this from, the Weasley one?" Simon gestures broadly. "It sounds pretty popular. The whole point is that they don't know what's happening."

He and Jace are sitting in a quiet corner of the Hufflepuff common room, discussing the intricate details of their plan to enact revenge on Sebastian Morgenstern. They're missing breakfast, but considering how much of a tool Sebastian has been lately, it's a sacrifice they are both willing to undertake.

"But the beginners pack came with stink bombs." Jace reminds him, looking one second away from pouting. "I don't know if you have ever smelt the smoke of a stink bomb, Lewis, but it's not the most pleasant."

Simon groans, twirling his pen in his hand. They've got the right ideas, but no clue how to technically pull them off. Stink bombs are a great idea, but how are they supposed to hide them in the right places without getting caught out? It's kind of pointless, doing all this work to just get thrown in detention.

Jace _already_ has detention for standing up to Sebastian. Simon doesn't know what detention at Hogwarts is like, but he can't imagine getting two detentions for antagonising the same student is going to exactly result in peaches and ice-cream.

"We need to maximise on the effect, instead of the prank itself." Simon mumbles. He needs to think of some low-key, 'muggle' pranks that are small enough to be unsuspecting but enough to cause the effect they're hoping for.

He'd, unfortunately, been bullied a fair bit in his earlier schooling years. If anything good can come out of that, it's this.

"Ooh!" He exclaims, almost topping the fold-up table resting between them. Simon doesn't want to know where Jace got it from. "Okay, okay, I've got it. In fourth grade there was this absolute knob, Billy Carter - he was bigger and older than me, and because I'm Jewish with glasses and a girl for a best friend, he decided that I am the perfect target to pick on. He'd wait for me-"

"Lewis, I hate to break up this fascinating recount of your dark childhood memories," Jace frowns. "But Charms starts in fifteen minutes and I really can't afford to be the reason that Gryffindor loses the House Cup this year - I'm unlikely to become captain of the Quidditch team if I single-handedly cause the house's decline in my first year, and getting detention has already set me off on a bad start."

Simon sighs, but gives in. Jace does have a point. Which is plain infuriating.

"Alright. So, stink bombs are in. You can have those." Simon bends. Jace grins like a kid on Christmas. There's an irony there that Simon refuses to point out. "But we should put them where they can't be seen. The longer they're undetected, the better."

He scribbles the note down on a sheet of parchment. Jace has promised to burn the evidence of what they've done, and considering the fire-making spell they learnt at the end of term, Simon actually believes him.

"We want the pranks to center on Sebastian - what about slipping something into his bed?"

Jace shakes his head. "How are we going to manage that? We'd have to get through the Slytherin doorway, and the common room, and then into his bed without him finding out."

"We could ask Magnus?" Simon suggests. Jace stares at him, deadpanned. "Yeah, okay, maybe not." Simon amends.

He adjusts the arm of his glasses. They're a bit wonky, he probably needs to get them tightened - maybe there is a spell for that. He knows that other wizards and witches have glasses, that infamous savior guy, the legendary _Harry Potter_ that everyone keeps bringing up in conversation - he, apparently, wears glasses.

"I don't want to steal anything, that seems too big for our first attempt."

"First?" Jace echoes, smirking in that arrogant, golden-boy way. "You got big plans for us, Lewis?"

"Obviously." Simon plays along. "We're going to start up our own pranking-business and become renound within the walls of the school. Everyone is going to come to us when they want anything prank-related done."

Jace shakes his head, but he's smiling, so Simon takes it in stride.

"Leave it with me," He states, scooping his things up, sliding the parchment into the back of his thickest textbook. "I'll brainstorm and see what I can come up with. I'm sure there is something muggle-worthy to attack Sebastian with."

Jace claps his shoulder. "It's cute you think muggle pranks are better than wizard ones."

Simon narrows his eyes, challenging. "We'll see, Lightwood. We'll see."

 

* * *

 

"Do you have to do that _there_?"

Alec glares at Magnus, with a ridiculously low amount of heat to it. If there is a downside to them being friends, it's that Alec can't seem to summon the same fire when he's annoyed. He just ends up being exasperated, which is fine, but not the same.

"There's a Quidditch match, later." He reminds Magnus. "And I'd like to play. However, I don't want to fail in my classes - so, short answer: yes. We _do_ have to do this _here._ "

He and Lydia are huddled off to the side of their little group, textbooks and parchment spread in the empty spaces around plates and cups and cutlery. It had been Lydia's idea, on account of how badly she wants to play the sport too. The only one that seems to have a problem with it is Magnus, and that's not enough to stop them.

Lily smirks at him, almost like she's proud of his response. Alec straightens in his seat, hand tightening on his quill.

"Is it just a hobby of yours to irritate me, Lightwood?" Magnus snipes. He looks like he's trying to repress a grin.

"I wouldn't waste my time like that." Alec quips back. It's an oddly easy banter to have with Magnus, one he's getting used to. Teasing in a way that isn't actually ill-intended.

Lydia taps his textbook with her wand. "Hey, Lightwood. Focus."

He ducks his head, sheepishly. "Sorry."

Lydia smiles, a firmness to her eyes. "It's fine. I just don't want you to hear you complain about failing."

Alec hears Magnus, and Lily, sniggering beside him. He chooses to ignore them, as it's far easier to not give in. Lydia's right, he really needs to study.

"I just don't get the last question." Alec frowns. "What in Merlin's name does this have to do with Potions?"

Lydia sighs, compassionately. She leans over the table, trying to break down the question in a way that Alec can understand. Which doesn't end up helping, and only makes things worse for him in the end, because he gets even more muddled and confused.

After ten minutes going over the same question, he gives in, throwing his head onto his textbook, and sighing against it. It's nice and dark like this, his vision compromised by the position he's put himself in. He can hear things, but it's a little muffled and if he clenches his eyes tightly enough, he can pretend that he's not the source of his parent's deepest disappointment.

"Hey,"

Alec's back tightens at the warm touch of a hand on his back. It's solid and immobile, just resting on his robes patiently. He exhales slowly, his breath ghosting back up into his face. It's only once his breathing is even, not laboured, and his mind is clear enough for him to remember that he's trying to care less what his parent's think - _trying_ being the operative word - that he pulls his head up.

Magnus is staring at him with thinly compressed concern. His eyes are soft and round and his mouth is pressed together into a thin line, like he's waiting for Alec to respond before he says anything.

"Did you say the last question?" Magnus asks. Alec gets the feeling that isn't what he wants to say, but he appreciates the deflection.

"Uh, yeah." Alec nods, refusing to look down in case he starts crying or something. "I don't get what the story has to do with the actual potion equation."

Magnus leans over his shoulder, their arms brushing together. "The story explains how and why to get the core ingredient." He smirks at Alec teasingly, and the familarity settles him. "You know, because unicorn hair doesn't grow on trees and mandrake root isn't as easily accesible as reaching into the storage cupboard for a jar."

Alec stares at the question, the words swimming together. The more he concentrates, with Magnus' advice in mind, the more it starts to fit together. Like it's a puzzle, and before now he's been trying to force the wrong piece into the same spot despite it not fitting any time before.

"Right..." He drawls out, slowly. "And then that explains how to do..." He rakes a hand over his face and groans. "I can't believe how stupidly easy that actually was."

Magnus smiles sympathetically. "Was it really the question that was stupid?" He jokes.

Alec bumps his shoulder half-heartedly, and sets about finishing the question. Lydia helps him set it out clear enough for it to pass, and then he slams the front of his textbook down with more force than is probably necessary.

"Thank you." He tells Lydia, as she had helped him with most of it. He then turns to Magnus, offering him a lukewarm, hesitant smile. "And, thank you, Magnus."

Magnus shrugs, but if Alec isn't mistaken, there's a light heat across his cheekbones that wasn't there before.

"We can't have you failing." Magnus fiddles with the edge of his plate, running his fingers along the rim. "Between your - frankly rude parents - and your consistent need to be great at everything, you'd be absolutely torturous to hang around if you failed. I didn't do it for you, I really did it for myself."

Alec laughs, a bubble of laughter rising up inside of him, filling him with a warmth like his first swallow of Butterbeer - he'd been ten, Jace had snuck some from a party their parents were hosting. It was surprisingly sweet, and although afterwards he felt incredibly guilty and couldn't stop waiting for consequence to strike, during that sip he'd been filled with an eveloping warmth like he'd swallowed daylight.

"I knew you had selfish intentions." He feigns a stern expression. "It's rather sad, Bane, how little you care for others."

Magnus pouts, the effect enhanced by the sounds of Lily and Lydia's laughter around them. Alec allows himself to smile broadly, chuffed by the reaction. When he imagined coming to Hogwarts, this never crossed his mind.

That he'd be joking with a Slytherin about Potions, that he'd be sitting at the Slytherin table with other Slytherins, a happy Hufflepuff himself, without caring about the thoughts of others, his parents especially.

It's only been a few months, but he's already come a scarily long way from the timid boy that had arrived at Hogwarts. And sure, his parents may not be that proud of him. But Isabelle is, and Jace seems to be, and more importantly - or so he's been told - he's actually kind of proud of himself.

It's fleeting, and he can't admit it aloud, but he's getting there.

 

* * *

 

Alec sidles up to Julian minutes before the Quidditch match starts. He's feeling nervous, but in an exhilirating way, and he can't calm down his own jittery nerves. He figures that, being the house captain, Julian would know a little about it.

"Hey, Alec." Julian smiles his usual, sunny-bright smile. It helps a little. "Ready for the match?"

He and Emma are refereeing the match together, along with the captains of the Slytherin and Ravenclaw teams, given express permission from Headmistress McGonogall. Alec wonders if that's because she's such a fan of the sport or whether Julian and Emma simply sweet-talked her into it.

"Yeah." Alec grips the hand of his broomstick. "I'm a little, nervous, though." He admits, reluctantly. He's still not used to admitting his own faults, to himself let alone in front of others.

Julian doesn't seem fazed. His smile softens, a thin and translucent cloud passing over a burning sun. "About the match?" He asks, his eyes narrowing slightly. "Or your ability?"

Alec shrugs. It's a bit of both, really. But he's already admitted far more than he's willing to.

Julian nods, understanding probably more than Alec does. He pauses in thought, and then leans in, his hand gently resting on Alec's shoulder. It feels comforting - Alec's never had an older sibling, but he can see that Julian is a very good one.

"Can I tell you a secret?" Julian asks, leaning in so they're out of earshot of anyone else. Alec nods, looking at Julian patiently.

"I always get nervous before a match." Julian admits. "Every single match."

"Even now?" Alec asks. He can't imagine Julian getting nervous after playing the sport for so long. Surely practice would have eliminated the possibility for nerves.

"Especially now." Julian replies. His brown eyes radiate kindness, and understanding. Despite his reservations, Alec believes him. "When I was younger, I was worried about playing a good match. Proving to myself that I am good enough to be on the Hufflepuff team."

Julian beams quietly. "Now, my worry is that I won't be able to captain Hufflepuff to victory before I finish here, at Hogwarts."

Alec frowns. He feels like he's trying to hold up too many odd pieces and the more he's given, the more he scrambles to keep them and the less hold he manages to keep on them.

"How do you remain so collected?"

Julian shrugs. his shoulders rolling with the movement. "I fake it. For the most part. I get my head into the game and I don't think about anything else, because as soon as I do, I lose focus and that's when things go wrong."

He squeezes the hand on Alec's shoulder comfortingly. "You're good, Alec. Really good. And I have no doubt that you will become an excellent player. I wouldn't be surprised if you became captain in a few years."

Alec fights the heat on his cheeks. He hates blushing. It's ironically embarassing. "I'm not that good."

"Not yet." Julian acknowledges. "But you will be. Which is why it's important for you to understand that nerves are to be expected, and instead of trying to just get rid of them, you should utilise them. Use them to fuel you on - you're only nervous because you care so much. Use it as motivation, not a constriction."

Julian pulls back, his hand leaving Alec's shoulder. "But most of all, Alec?" Julian smiles encouragingly. "Just have fun. That's what Quidditch is all about. Winning doesn't mean much if you don't enjoy the game itself."

Alec inhales deeply, and then exhales slowly. Julian's right, naturally. Sure, training is frustrating when he can't turn as quickly as he wants, or when he loses momentum and flails, but it's always fun, because Julian makes sure of it.

Now it's up to Alec, to make sure that he has a good time. After all, when does a situation like this ever come around? A chance to play a full-fledged Quidditch match, or close to it, as a first year?

"Thank you," He strokes the top of his broomstick. He can do this. Even if he has to fool himself into believing it. He can.

"Anytime," Julian promises. "I mean it. Anytime you need to talk, Alec. I'm always around, somewhere. And I've been told I give 'okay' advice."

Alec laughs quietly. "I think it's more than okay."

The only way to describe the look that comes across Julian's face is honest awe. "Nice to know." He says, after a short moment.

They both hear Emma's distinct voice calling out to Julian. Julian's whole face softens at the sound, remaining even when he turns to Alec. "You better hurry of, kid." He says, an air of tease to his voice. "I can't let Emma and your brother win. We'll never hear the end of it."

Alec nod, affirmatively. The match is set into rounds, so that each house gets to play against the most of the others, but in the end there can only be one winner.

And Alec plans on it being Hufflepuff.

 

* * *

 

"I'm don't even really understand this stupid sport." Magnus complains, clutching his robe tighter around him. "Why do I care so much?"

The wind is cold and biting so high up in the bleachers - Magnus can't imagine what it's like to be in the air itself, hanging onto a flimsy stick of wood in raging gale force winds. Not that anyone in the air seems to be having a bad time.

"Because your friends are playing," Clary points out.

She's sitting next to him, Simon on her other side, clutching at her Gryffindor scarf. Her cheeks are pink, the weather affecting her just as much. Simon's glasses are that fogged Magnus isn't even sure if he's watching the match or just staring in the general direction of the field.

"And your house is looking to win the third round," Catarina informs him, a little sourly. It's an interesting look on her.

"We did win our first round." Ragnor reminds her. He'd lost interest after Ravenclaw had lost to Gryffindor in the second round, and has spent the remaining time with his nose, unsurprisingly, stuck in a book.

"One round!" Catarina exclaims. Magnus had apparently underestimated her house spirit. For somone who seems more interested in classes, she's gotten into the Quidditch fever very quickly.

Magnus pats her knee gently. "You know this doesn't really count, right?" He raises an eyebrow. "They're first and second years. It's not even a proper match, it goes for a fleetingly short time and the - what are those violent ones called, the beaters? They just fly around carrying those big dodgeball-looking things."

Alec and Lydia had given him a quick run-down on Quidditch in it's most basic form so that he could watch the match and understand it, even just a little, with Catarina adding in comments here and there when she felt it necessary. He doesn't understand, not really. He just reels off what he's heard, almost verbatim, because then he at least appears like he knows what he's talking about.

Clary nudges his shoulder. "Seems you know more than you think."

He shrugs. "I'm pretty much faking it." He admits.

Clary smiles at him. He doesn't know her very well - at all really, except that she hangs around the Lightwood's, the blonde one especially, and she's a muggle-born like him. Good at Transfiguration - incredibly good - but fairly mediocre when it comes to Herbology. She's tiny with carrot hair and ink stains on her fingers and she's far kinder than he'd expect from someone who spends so much time with arrogance-incarnate Jace Lightwood.

They're certainly not friends. But Magus thinks they could be, one day. Maybe.

Then again, he's now friends with Alec Lightwood. Anything could happen.

Clary appears about to respond, when a loud roar of applause rises up around them. Magnus frowns, looking for the source. A wave of green and silver scarves flutter in the wind, carrying with it the sounds of Slytherin's cheering enthusiastically.

"Congratulations," Catarina drawls slowly. "You won."

Slytherin had beaten Ravenclaw by ten points when the timer ran out. Due to the matches being shorter, the golden flying thing that gets all the points and is impossible to catch, Magnus has forgotten what it's called - he thinks it starts with an 's' ... anyway, it hasn't been caught yet, the timer running out before the seeking person - the seeker? - has a chance to grab it.

"We couldn't have won against a better team." Magnus tells her.

Catarina doesn't look entirely that upset, more just disappointed, which Magnus understands - Slytherin had lost to Hufflepuff in the second round, and he'd been surprised at how much it affected him.

"Well." Catarina shares an undecipherable glance with Ragnor. "The least you lot can do is beat Hufflepuff."

Magnus frowns. The Slytherin team is good; Lily is brash and fast - and even if she can't technically hit anyone just yet, she comes close enough to throw them temporarily off-course - and Lydia is incredibly skilled at keeping the goals free.

But, at the same time - Alec is on the Hufflepuff team. And he's - look, Magnus doesn't entirely understand what he does other than fly from one end of the field to the other, but that's because he's too busy trying to keep up with the match, and find Alec, to really notice _what_ he's doing. He's fast, Magnus is aware of that much.

"Of course we'll beat Hufflepuff." He claims, as though the idea is ridiculous. In reality, he isn't so sure who will win - or, oddly enough, who he wants to win.

Sure, he wants his house to win, because he's never been part of such a close-knit group before, and he knows where his loyalties lie ... however. He doesn't think he'd mind if Hufflepuff won. They deserve it.

Not as much as Slytherin does, though. Obviously.

"I'd be careful with what you claim," Simon pipes up, looking across Clary. "We just bet Gryffindor, _and_ we smashed you in the second round."

Magnus smiles wolfishly. "That's all well and good, Sean, but we're going to win where it counts."

Clary hides a smile behind her hand, as Simon splutters wordlessly beside her. It's a lot of jumbled noises and squeaked portests. Magnus knows his name, of course, but it's always fun to lightly tease people - especially people like Simon, who buys in to it so easily.

Catarina leans in and whispers: "If you're not careful, you might actually enjoy yourself."

"I doubt it," He replies instinctively, conjuring an air of indifference.

Unfortunately for him, Catarina is usually - always - right. And he has a feeling that this time is no different.

 

* * *

 

Jace is leaning against the foundation of the bleachers, arms folded over his chest with the strongest pout Alec has ever seen. He coughs into the end of his scarf, hiding within it an amused laugh.

"It's just not fair." Jace states. It's not the first time he's said it, not even the first time in the past ten minutes. He seems to be the only sentence he's capable of forming.

He's upset that Hufflepuff bet out Gryffindor, that Alec beat him, even though they played in different positions.

"Jace," Alec says, again. "It's not a proper match."

This time, Jace holds up his hand, staring at Alec incredulously. "Didn't you hear?"

Alec frowns, adjusting his tie - it had been thrashed around a little, and having a loose tie makes him feel uncomfortable. He doesn't need them suffocating, just, tightened properly. Not just hanging there, a second away from practically falling off.

"The houses are awarded points according to their placing." Jace explains. "Eighty to the first, sixty to the next, and so on, so that each house still gets points for participating." Jace shrugs a single shoulder. "I think it's because McGonogall just wants to encourage kids to play Quidditch because she's such a big fan herself."

Alec stares. The houses are awarded points for this? He just played because he wanted to, because his been training with Julian and he wanted to see if it's really paid off. Which, he's not that sure of, although they did score second place, so he can't be _that_ bad.

Alec is spared having to give a response - thankfully, because he really doesn't know how to reply to that - when Emma walks up to them, pulling Julian by the hand. He's smiling giddily, so he can't be too bothered by the tugging.

"Hey, Lightwood." Emma greets. Alec can practically feel Jace's smug pride leaking into the air - except, Emma isn't looking at Jace.

She's looking at Alec.

"That was some killer chasing skills out there." Emma praises. She lifts up her free hand, and Alec is startled for a few seconds before he realises that she's offering a high-five. He reciprocates a little hesitantly, still confused as to why she's talking to him.

"Uh, thanks." He smiles, weakly.

He's not good at accepting compliments. From anyone, really, let alone someone as obviously skilled as _Emma Carstairs._ She managed to get on the Quidditch team in her third year, and to his recollection, she's one of the few female Hogwarts students to captain a house Quidditch team. She's an incredibly good player.

He can't even accept compliments from Julian, and no offence to either of them, but Julian is a lot less intimidating than Emma. Emma is honest and straight-forward and she doesn't hesitate to say exactly what she thinks, regardless of what trouble that leads her in to.

Alec knows his brother isn't there yet, but he can see Jace heading down the same path.

"And of course, our resident first year golden-boy," Emma declares, turning her attention to Jace. In the same beat, Alec lets out a relived breath, grateful the attention isn't on him anymore, and Jace perks up, excited to be brought into the conversation. He has no trouble accepting compliments, not in the way that Alec does.

Then again, Jace is more accustomed to hearing compliments than Alec is.

"Seriously, Alec." Julian steps towards him, blocking Emma and Jace from their conversation, his hand slipping from hers as she pulls Jace into a tight, enthusiastic hug.

Julian pauses, looking as though he's searching for words. Alec waits, patiently, knowing that Julian has something that he wants, or feels he needs, to say.

"You were great out there," Julian smiles, but it's small and gentle, almost private. Soothing. "I mean, the whole team was excellent, but you - Alec, I really think the training is working out for you. You have an innate ability-" He fades off, his eyes searching Alec's. "You have what it takes to be the best, you just need it believe it yourself."

Alec stands there, stunned. He's sure that his mouth is inappropriately wide, but his heart is clenched tightly in his chest and there's something in his throat preventing him from breathing properly.

He exhales slowly, grasping the fabric of his robe with clenched fists. He really needs to get better at this compliments thing. He knows that he's - well, he's not bad, because Julian wouldn't have offered to train him, and they wouldn't have made it to the last round if he couldn't play. Besides all of that, Alec has the feeling that Julian isn't in the habit of saying things he doesn't mean.

"T-thank you." He stutters out.

Julian nods, patting Alec's shoulder gently. His blue-green eyes are swimming with a reserved kindness, like he has to make sure that Alec understands that support is there, but he's not being pressured into anything.

He had his reservations about Hufflepuff when he first arrived at Hogwarts - but people like Julian, who are so openly honest with their kindness, their praise and their support - it's making it very hard for him to not like Hufflepuff.

Even harder to feel as though he doesn't fit in.

Emma sidles up to Julian, saving Alec from having to inhale suffocating breaths in the attempt to admit his own internal revelations. She wraps an arm around Julian's waist, hooking her head over his shoulder.

"Hey, Jules?" She says. Julian's whole face simultaneously lights up and softens simply at her presence. Alec knows that other kids his age would probably find it gross, or weird, but he thinks it's sweet, that they care for each other so much. It's not something he's really used to seeing.

"We better get going - I haven't done my assigned work for Vampire Bats and I don't trust Aldertree to accept my refeering Quidditch as an acceptable excuse."

Julian shakes his head fondly, turning to kiss Emma's temple. "Of course you haven't." He declares with amused exasperation.

"Alec, I'll catch up with you later, to organise another training session? I've got some things I really want to focus on." He reaches for Emma's hand, waving to Alec and Jace - who's currently comparing his and Alec's broomsticks - before heading off away from the field.

Alec presses his thumb firmly into his palm and sighs, basking in the pressure, the physical point of contact that makes more sense to him than his internal snowstorm. Jace makes a disgruntled noise beside him.

"Jace," Alec sighs. "Your broom is newer than mine."

"Well something must be special about yours," Jace states, holding them up higher, still inspecting them. "Maybe it's a rare kind of wood or something."

Alec shakes his head. "Maybe you're a rare kind of stupid."

A light exhale of laughter sounds behind Alec, and he turns, instinctively tense. He relaxes as soon as he sees that it is just Magnus. And when did that happen? He _relaxes_ when he sees Magnus? That's arguably the clearest sign that they're friends. Alec is usually tense around most people.

"That is something I can agree with." Magnus says. He's smiling brightly, if a little obnoxiously, hands placed deliberately on his hips.

Isabelle does the same thing when she's right, and knows it.

"Shut up, Bane." Jace glares.

Alec waves dismissively. "Don't mind him, he's just a sore loser."

He ducks the hand that Jace aims at his shoulder, smirking when he straightens back up. Jace frowns, and then jerkily hands Alec's broomstick back to him. "You know what? I'm going to find Clary, or Simon, or somebody that is actually willing to hear about my problems."

"Your problems being that you were beaten by Slytherin," Magnus assumes, smirking. "Or that your brother, a Hufflepuff, is technically better than you?"

Jace's glare darkens. "We play different positions."

Magnus shrugs, nochalantly. "Same difference to me."

Jace blinks at him incredulously, and then stalks off in a huff. Alec watches him go amusedly, and then turns back to Magnus.

"Hi," He greets, stroking his broomstick.

Magnus inclines his head. "Hey." He slides his hands into his pockets, his green-gold eyes flickering with hesitation. Alec waits, he has the feeling that Magnus is preparing to say something.

"Look, Alec." Magnus shrugs, half-heartedly. "I don't know a lot about Quidditch. And I could barely keep up with any of the actual matches, I kind of just waited to see who cheered." He blinks sheepishly. Alec offers him a reassuring smile.

"Anyway," Magnus rolls his shoulders back, standing up straighter. "I just wanted to congratulate you."

Congratulate-" Alec frowns. "But - we came second to you."

Magnus holds up his hand. "Technically, to my house. I didn't play. But you did, and - even though I had no idea what on earth you were actually doing, I'm not blind. Or stupid." He smiles, and it's soft and kind and it shakes Alec's already weak inner equilibrium. "I don't have to know what's going on, to know that you're good."

Alec's heart flickers behind his ribcage. "Thank you."

He wonders if 'practice makes perfect' applies to personal things. If he says 'thank you' enough in the space of an hour, will that make it easier for him to believe what others say?

He has no doubt that Magnus is telling the truth. Considering their rocky start, he has no reason to lie. And sure, Alec doesn't know him that well, and maybe it's just a blind faith in people or something, he doesn't know. But he can't imagine Magnus lying, especially not about something so slight and unimportant in the grand scheme of things as a beginner's Quidditch match.

"Kind of sucks, though." Magnus says, offhandedly. "That you made it so far, and ended up losing."

It's not said with any hint of malice, only leading curiosity. Alec shrugs - really, he's already lost, there isn't much else he can do.

"Maybe," Alec acknowledges. "But it's good practice. And Slytherin did play a really good match - Lily is actually terrifying in the air. And Lydia's just brilliant, when I was watching the match between them and Ravenclaw - I'm not surprised we lost. And I'm not that upset about it either. It's just a test-run, really."

"Still." Magnus frowns, a fierce undecipherable look in his eyes. "It's got to ... aren't you disappointed?"

"I would have liked to win," Alec admits. "But we didn't." To him, it's as easy as that to grasp. The case appears to be different for Magnus.

One minute, he's standing there, hands tucked into his pockets, chatting amicably with Alec about a sport he doesn't understand. The next, he's wrapping his arms around Alec's shoulders, enveloping him in a firm, surprisingly comfortable and _warm_ hug.

What's even more suprising than the hug itself, is how easily Alec melts into it. His arms wind around Magnus' torso, his head hooked over Magnus' shoulder. It's not a long hug, nor a particuarly special one, bar the fact they've never so much as high-fived before. But it's nice, and when Alec pulls back, he's already smiling. Magnus, too.

"I'm still sorry you lost." Magnus says - by way of an explanation, Alec assumes.

Alec's hands fall loosely to his sides. He doesn't know how to actually respond to that, or the hug, which was unexpected, and even more unexpectedly pleasant.

"I guess we can't really pretend to hate each other anymore, then." He says, instead, because it feels safer.

"We can still try - even though it probably won't fool anyone. I'd be willing to give it a go if you are." Magnus winks, and it's so over-the-top and cheesy and ridiculous that Alec has to laugh.

"I think I'd rather just be friends," He admits, quietly.

Magnus hums, but his bright expression betrays his feigned nonchalance. "I guess I can get behind that."

Alec isn't sure if that's because of the hug or their shared honest words or the leftover adrenaline from the matches - but something in this moment feels like the start of something new.

The start of something exciting.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter: revenge.


	10. Revenge is a Dish Best Served Cold

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Alec stands up to Sebastian, Sebastian gets what's coming for him, and Gryffindors bite back.

  
Isabelle wings her legs back and forth where she's perched on the edge of Jace's bed, and frowns down at the large box of items from Weasley's Wizard Wheezes that her brother is in the process of packing carefully in his trunk in preparation for their return to school after the Easter break.

"What's that for?" she asks, because, much as she'd begged and pleaded, her parents had insisted she stay at home to take care of Max while they took Alec and Jace to Diagon Alley to stock up on school supplies. And, apparently, to buy prank sets.

Jace smirks up at her, deviousness written into every line of his face. "This? This is to prank the biggest prat in Hogwarts."

Her frown deepens. "That looks like it'll get you in detention."

Jace shrugs. "Honestly, Iz, it'd be worth it. He's such a- such a—"

"Pillock?" she suggests, raising an eyebrow.

"Yes. I mean no! You're not supposed to know words like that!" He glares at her, and she rolls her eyes. She's loved having Jace and Alec home over the holidays, even just for two weeks, but her brothers infuriate her sometimes. "Do you even know what that means?"

"Jace, I'm only a year younger than you and Alec. And yes, of course I know what it means. It's a—"

"No!" Jace looks mildly nauseous. "I don't want to hear those kind of things from you!"

"You know you're the one who taught me swear words, don't you?" she asks, pointedly.

"Well, yeah." The self-satisfied grin returns to his face. "Alec wasn't gonna do it, now was he?"

***

Magnus finds himself dragging his case up alongside the steaming scarlet train on platform nine and three quarters with a distinct sense of relief settled deep in the pit of his stomach. He feels settled, where everything inside him has been churning over the last fortnight. Because yes, having April at the orphanage has improved it exponentially (they'd even taken a day trip out to the beach, which was fun even if it had been cold and wet and windy) but the other children there were, as ever, unchanged. And, as ever, they'd had it out for Magnus all holiday.

So when he sees Ragnor, Catarina, and Lily all standing together on the platform, while Catarina says goodbye to her parents, he feels several weights drop off his heart, and happiness rushes through his veins like water rushing through a new gap in a dam.

But before he can head over and greet his friends, he feels a tentative hand on his elbow, and the sleeves of a worn, soft-looking grey sweater enters his field of vision.

"Hey," Alec says, smiling at him a little nervously as he falls into step beside him.

Magnus blinks in surprise, but he feels himself returning Alec's smile without thought as Alec's fingers slip from his elbow, and instead tuck into the pockets of his jeans. It's the first time, he thinks, that he's seen Alec in mundane clothes, and he's not really surprised by the Lightwood's choice of attire: he hadn't pegged Alexander as someone particularly caring of clothes.

(Magnus would like to be, he thinks. He's always appreciated people who have nice clothes, and people who wear fashionable things while simultaneously managing to stand out and look unique. He's just never had the financial means or the physical opportunity to go and buy whatever takes his fancy in a shopping centre.)

"Hey," Magnus says, and another weight drops off his chest as he notices how easy he and Alec are around each other, now, relaxed and open and fairly uninhibited. "How was your holiday?"

Alec wrinkles his nose. "I think Mum and Dad ran out of ways to be passive aggressive about Hufflepuff by the end of the fortnight, so it just made them even more miserable than usual. Seeing Izzy and Max was good though."

As always, Alec's face softens and his eyes brighten when he talks about his siblings. It's very sweet, really; Magnus doesn't know how it took him so long to notice what a caring, loving person Alec is.

"Yeah?" Magnus raises his eyebrows in encouragement. "Did you do anything nice?"

"We ate a lot of food, but we didn't really go out because our parents were at work. And I'm pretty sure Jace and Simon are planning something. I've never seen Jace voluntarily write a letter without a scowl on his face in his life, but he sat there scribbling away to Simon at least three times. Maybe four."

Magnus snorts. "You people. Do you not use phones? Don't you even have landlines? I can understand kids not having mobiles, but..."

"Simon said that," Alec admits, and shrugs. "I don't know if you've noticed, but we're kind of backwards with technology. We can just do it all with magic."

"Clearly, not all." Magnus bumps Alec's shoulder, and grins at him.

"Shut up," Alec lets him, but he lets out a little laugh anyway. "What about you?"

"Pretty damn awful," Magnus says cheerfully. "I'm glad to be back."

"Is it really that bad?" Alec asks, with wide, sincere eyes filled to the brim with concern. "Living in an orphanage?"

It makes Magnus' chest tighten a little, because Alec is so completely innocent to the sort of life Magnus leads in the mundane world—one with very little money, nobody who particularly cares about his general wellbeing, and a lot of mundane kids who seem to despise him.

Exhaling as they reach a carriage about halfway down the platform where they can climb on without being crushed by the older students, Magnus shrugs. "I don't know. For me, yeah. It's always pretty rough." He glances at Alec curiously. "Why do you ask?"

Alec bites his lip, looking nervous. "I- I was thinking about it, when you told me before Christmas that it sucks. And I was thinking that if my parents hadn't taken him in, Jace would have to go to an orphanage. Probably a mundane one. And that- I don't know. I was just thinking about it."

"Well, aren't you just full of happy thoughts?" Magnus' lips twitch up just a little, the expression tinged with sadness. "It's not a death sentence. But it's better being at Hogwarts than in and out of foster care all the time."

Alec reaches out and touches his forearm. His hand is warm through Magnus' jacket, and he squeezes gently when their eyes meet, and hold. "I'm sorry you have to deal with that," he says, softly, and it's so painfully sincere that Magnus swallows.

"It's okay."

Magnus pats his hand, a little awkwardly, because he's not quite sure what to do with this—this kind of care and concern. It's unfamiliar. Alec seems to give it to people he cares about so freely, and he asks for nothing at all in return. It's puzzling. Bewildering. And so, so foreign.

Their little bubble is shattered when Catarina, Ragnor, Lily and Lydia bound up to them (well, Catarina and Lydia bound; Ragnor and Lily stomp), and greet Magnus and Alec exceptionally loudly.

"Where's the blonde?" Lily asks, raising her eyebrows at Alec.

"He caught up with Simon and Clary. He and Simon are planning something. I decided I'd rather not know, so don't ask."

Magnus smiles to himself at that. Something about what Alec says seems to pique Ragnor's interest, however, as he looks up from a magazine (what kind of name is the _Quibbler_?) and blinks at Alec.

"Oh." Lily doesn't look like she particularly cares. "How was gross and stinky London, Lightwood? This one–" she jerks a thumb at Lydia, who makes a noise of utter despair in the back of her throat "–was trying to persuade me again that it's lovely."

"Not this again," Magnus argues. "Please. I don't like being unable to participate in arguments in a biased manner."

Ragnor raises his eyebrows. "Isn't being unbiased a good thing?"

"It's boring," he says. "There's no passion in debating when you're being unbiased. I want to form an opinion of London and slaughter someone with my fabulous debating skills."

"We'll take you," Lydia promises. "Summer. Me and Alec, we'll take you."

Magnus starts to let out a laugh, because she's grinning at him, and he knows it's just a joke, but then Alec starts, looking surprised, before he nods enthusiastically, and Magnus suddenly gets the impression that his friends are perfectly serious in their offer.

"Yeah, why not?" He exchanges a look with Lydia that's full of excitement. "Day trip. Hey, you could come and stay with us!"

Lydia's grin transforms into a smirk. "Oh, yeah, we've got to give you the experience of trying to sleep in the middle of a city. Might have to come to mine for that, not Alec's poncy suburban luxury."

Alec bites out a retort about the prices of houses in London, but he doesn't look particularly offended at Lydia's comment. Quite the opposite, in fact.

And, yes, they're definitely serious. Magnus feels his throat tighten a little, because they're offering this so easily, without thought, and it's just–

It's so _nice_.

"Magnus?" Alec is looking at him, as are the rest of his friends, with slight concern.

"Hm?"

Brow furrowed, Alec says, "Are you okay? You spaced out."

"Me? I'm fine." Magnus chews on the inside of his cheek for a moment. "Are you– Do you really want me coming to London with you and- and invading yours homes and—?"

"Of course!" Lydia looks at him like he must have some kind of horrible illness, and shakes her head in astonishment. "Invade our homes? Magnus, you're our friend, why on earth would we be anything but utterly ecstatic to have a sleepover?"

Lily nods her agreement, folding her arms over her chest. "And if you fancy getting down and dirty on a farm, you're welcome to come and visit ours."

Catarina and Ragnor also make him an offer, promising him something slightly more neutral for some rest and relaxation (Magnus smiles weakly at the words coming out of Ragnor's mouth) and he can't help feeling overwhelmed by such unprompted generosity.

Thankfully, the sound of a whistle blowing shoots through the air, shrill and piercing, and they have to abandon their conversation and clamber up onto the train. Magnus holds Lydia's owl for her while she drags up her trunk, and then they all file down the corridor in the search for an empty compartment.

There are a few third years shooting around some sort of sparkling paper crane as they shuffle down, and Magnus has to duck to avoid it, nearly walking right into it as he's wrapped up in his thoughts. Is it normal for friends to do this kind of thing? It's not like he's never had friends before - of course he has, at mundane primary school - but he's never had friends like these.

"Hey, are you sure you're okay?" Alec asks, leaning into Magnus' space just slightly so he can be heard from where he's walking behind Magnus in order to allow people to pass them in the other direction. Up in front of them, Catarina has located Clary, Simon and Jace, and is in the process of negotiating her way around someone's escaped toad to get inside the carriage.

"Yeah." Magnus smiles at Alec, and he finds that it's the truth. He is okay. He's more than okay. In fact, he's so much more than okay that he's not really sure what to do with the overflow of utter contentment at being back around his friends. "Yeah, I'm great."

Alec smiles at him, bright and honest, and says, "I'm glad."

And, forget London and farms and sleepovers, Magnus has never been more grateful for an odd, mismatched group of people in his life.

***

When they walk out of the Great Hall after an incredibly filling dinner that evening, Alec feels eyes on them. He glances over his shoulder, half listening to Clary and Jace bickering and trying not to hear whatever bizarre debate Magnus and Lily are partaking in, and sees Sebastian lingering by the entrance, arms folded across his chest, talking to the blonde Slytherin girl who seems to be his partner-in-smirking.

(Camille. Alec is fairly sure her name is Camille. He's never spoken to her, but if she's that tight with Sebastian Morgenstern, she's hardly in his good books. And Magnus doesn't like her, so Alec definitely isn't going to be adding her to his strange assembly of friends at Hogwarts.)

As soon as they move to pass Sebastian and Camille, Sebastian takes a subtle step forwards and slightly to the side, so his shoulder smashes against Magnus'. Magnus lets out a hiss of pain, and turns to glare at Sebastian.

"Watch where you're going, Bane," Sebastian says, loudly. Several heads turn to look in their direction in vague disinterest.

Magnus rolls his eyes. "Ditto, Morgenstern."

Sebastian's eyes flash. "You should watch yourself. We wouldn't want any accidents happening, now would we?"

There's anger rushing through Alec's veins as he listens to Morgenstern spit his sentences out with loathing in his voice, and he can't help himself. He takes a step forward, so he's angled just slightly in front of Magnus.

"Is that a threat?" he asks, narrowing his eyes.

Sebastian raises his eyebrows. "Of course not. I'm being entirely sincere. Although I don't know why you care. You could do a lot better for yourself than a mudblood, Alexander."

"Don't call me that," Alec snaps. He clenches his jaw, and leans a little into Sebastian's space, and says what he should have said the first time, all those months ago, on the fields in the September sun. "And don't you _dare_ call Magnus that, you prejudiced git."

Sebastian raises his eyebrows, and behind him, Camille turns her head to look at Alec. "I was just saying, Lightwood. I don't have a problem with you, I have a problem with him. Do you parents really want their son to be friends with him?"

"I assure you, they have bigger concerns about my school life," Alec says. He grabs a startled Magnus' arm and hauls him away before he does something stupid, like punch Sebastian in his stupid, smarmy face.

He misses Simon and Jace exchanging a pointed look behind them.

***

By the time they're a week into term, Alec has settled back into the swing of Hogwarts life. The weather outside has warmed up, with more sunny days that cast a golden glow across the lush countryside around the castle than grey and cloudy days that settled a thick blanket of mild misery over the castle.

He heads out of the common room on Tuesday morning with negative enthusiasm at the thought of a double lesson of Potions first thing. He's on his own, Simon having leapt out of bed at the crack of dawn. Three boys in their dorm had thrown a pillow at him in irritation at how much noise he made so early.

Magnus is already in the hall when Alec treks in, a less than ecstatic look on his face as he pushes cereal around his bowl at the Ravenclaw table. Catarina, Ragnor, Lily and Lydia are all sitting with him, talking, along with Clary, who's clearly trying to cheer Magnus up. Jace and Simon are notably absent.

Alec pokes Lily in the side to make her move her bag, and plonks himself down on the bench beside Magnus, who glances up at him.

"Morning," Magnus says.

"Morning," Alec replies. "You okay?"

Magnus shrugs. "Fine."

Alec decides not to press the matter, because maybe Magnus is just having a bad day for no particular reason, and he instead takes a hot cross bun, which have been a pleasant addition to their breakfast options around the Easter period.

Jace and Simon appear a few minutes later, both snickering quietly, heads bent together as they sit down.

Clary frowns at them. "What are you two up to?"

"Nothing," they tell her, in synch, with wide, innocent eyes. Their devilish grins betray their insincerity.

Lily raises her eyebrows. "I don't believe you. Whatever it is, I don't want to know. Ignorance is bliss, Fray."

At the moment, Alec can't help but agree. Especially where Jace is involved.

There's an abrupt, piercing, strangled sound that comes from the Slytherin table, and everyone nearby at the Ravenclaw table turn to search for the source of the noise. Alec spots it quickly: Sebastian, gagging theatrically, choking and spitting around a mouthful of a cream-filled bun.

"What the hell," Sebastian says, loudly. "Oh my god–" He gags again, and reaches for the jug of water in the middle of the table, knocking over a plate of oranges and someone's cereal in the process. He chugs half of it down, ignoring the indignant protests that rise around him and clearly not noticing the snickering onlookers.

Alec glances over at Jace and Simon when he catches sight of them clutching at each other and laughing in his peripheries. Jace looks like he might actually be crying, and he's never seen such a ridiculous grin on Simon's face.

He turns to their pair with narrowed eyes. "What did you two do?"

"It was Simon," Jace gasps out. "I'm innocent."

"I switched the cream in one of the buns for toothpaste and mayonnaise," Simon says, proudly. "And asked one of the house elves in the kitchens to make sure it was put where Morgenstern always sits."

Alec stares at him. "You– You _pranked_ Sebastian?"

Jace smirks at him. "Oh, you haven't seen anything yet."

***

In Potions, Magnus sits himself down beside Alec, which has become his permanent seat, feeling in a significantly better mood than he had this morning after seeing Sebastian humiliate himself at breakfast.

Alright, it hadn't been that big a deal. People had laughed at him, and those who'd had their breakfasts knocked over by him had glared at him, and then everyone had gone back to their mornings. But it had filled Magnus with a sense of satisfaction. _Karma, arsehole_ , he thought.

When Aldertree asks someone to demonstrate the spell he asked them to practise for homework the previous week, Sebastian's hand shoots up. Clearly, Magnus thinks, he's attempting to show off after the morning's embarrassment.

He clears his throat and smirks around at the class, wand held aloft, and Magnus rolls his eyes. God, he's such a moron. Magnus really, really wants to punch him in the face.

He zones out as Aldertree speaks, recapping what they're supposed to achieve with the spell, and then gives Sebastian the go-ahead. Sebastian speaks the incantation with unnecessarily overemphasised clarity on each syllable, and...

Nothing.

The entire class sits up a little straighter, and Sebastian frowns.

"Try again," Aldertree says.

Sebastian does. And, again, nothing. The corners of the mouths of many of the students assembled are twitching, and everybody is entirely still, staring at Sebastian as he goes steadily redder.

When he tries a third time with no result, someone in the back of the class lets out a snort, and a few people duck their heads to hide grins. Including Magnus. He doesn't dare meet any of his friends' eyes, because he knows they'll burst into laughter.

Sebastian whirls round with a glare on his face and his nostrils flaring, and Magnus realises that the boy who dared to make his amusement known is Simon. He looks unfazed at Sebastian's attention, and Magnus feels himself gain a little more respect for the boy.

"I'd like to see you try, Lewis," Sebastian spits. "Go on."

Simon shrugs at him, and stands. "Sure."

When he waves his wand in a somewhat inelegant swoop and says the incantation to complete the half-brewed forgetfulness potion, it bubbles, once, and then turns a dull red colour.

"Well done, Mr Lewis," Aldertree says. "Mr Morgenstern, I'd appreciate it if you took your homework a little more seriously."

Sebastian turns purple, and Magnus wonders, idly, if he's going to combust. But he merely jerks his head once in a nod, and sits back in his seat, fuming quietly.

***

At dinner, Sebastian walks in with a strange substance on his robes, and, even several metres away, Alec covers his mouth and nose at the stench as Sebastian walks past to sit at the end of the Slytherin table.

"Oh, yes," Jace says, and holds his hand up for a high five. He and Simon slap hands, both grinning. "Oh, that worked so well."

"Did you drop a dung bomb on Sebastian?" Magnus asks, eyes sparkling with mirth.

"Don't be silly. We've got much more class than that. We planted a dung bomb. Sebastian just happened to set it off."

Magnus laughs, and shakes his head. "I don't want to know how you managed that."

"Decoy detonators," Simon says, reaching into an empty bowl on the table that had contained wrapped toffees. He looks deeply upset at the realisation that there are none left, and he turns to Jace. "This is a tragedy, Lightwood. There are no more toffees."

Jace gasps. "Unacceptable. I'll go and raid the Slytherin table."

He drops Magnus and Alec a wink, before he stands, and saunters down to the end of the Gryffindor table and across to the other side of the hall.

"Were you two responsible for Sebastian's miserable failing in Potions?" Magnus asks Simon, jerking his chin at Jace.

"Maybe." Simon grins. "Fake wands. Apparently that shop has loads of them. Jace said he wanted to get the one that punches you instead of casting a spell, but he thought we should save that for a later date."

"Oh, god." Alec covers his face with both hands, and groans. "That's why Jace wanted to go to Weasley's Wizard Wheezes. Of course."

Magnus blinks at him. "Pardon, Alexander?"

"It's a shop," Alec says, lifted his head to look at his friend. "A joke shop."

Jace returns to the table with a self-satisfied smirk on his face, and Clary must have taken Lily's advice that morning, because she doesn't ask, although she shoots him a suspicious look. Alec has a feeling that Sebastian should look out.

And, sure enough, a mere few minutes later, Sebastian lets out a sharp cry, and leaps up out of his seat. His thighs smack against the table painfully, and he backs away, hand over his mouth and horror written across his face.

Camille rises with a little more grace, looking somewhat alarmed, and rests a hand on Sebastian's arm. She attempts to pull his hand away from his mouth, but he shakes his head at her vehemently.

At the Gryffindor table, Simon and Jace are grinning, watching with rapt attention, expectation on their faces.

Eventually, Camille manages to pull Sebastian's hand away, and the entire hall becomes silent, everyone staring.

Because Sebastian's tongue is _huge_. Huge, and bright purple. It's at least six inches longer than it should be, and it's beginning to resemble a small snake. Soon to be a large snake, Alec realises, because he can see it swelling and enlarging from the other side of the room.

Jace and Simon howl with laughter, Jace banging on the table, and Alec sees that Magnus' shoulders are shaking as he watches Sebastian stare at Camille, and then his tongue, in growing horror.

" _Wab bo I bo_?" Sebastian demands of Camille, tongue moving in an obscene fashion as he attempts to speak. " _Helb me!_ "

And, at that, Alec can't help but join in the laughter building around the hall. Magnus has tears in his eyes as he watches on, and even Ragnor looks amused by the proceedings.

It takes a good ten minutes for Camille to drag Sebastian out of the hall and to the hospital wing, and, by that time, Alec is satisfied that Sebastian has been humiliated beyond belief by his stupid, reckless brother and his meddling friend.

When he catches sight of Magnus still grinning, half an hour later while they're talking about something else entirely, he can only be grateful.

***

"That was quite something," Magnus observes, as the two of them sit in the library, doing their homework in companionable silence. It's not a Potions-Charms study session day, but Alec likes spending time with Magnus, so when his friend had told him he was going to the library, he'd asked if he could come, too. Magnus had been more than obliging.

"It was," Alec says, and looks up to find Magnus is already looking at him.

And they both burst out laughing, because it was just so ridiculous, all of it. Everything Simon and Jace had planned, every practical joke they'd laid out for Sebastian, had been insane, and stupid, and so, so effective.

"He's going to hate me even more, now," Magnus says, with a little sigh, sadness seeping onto his face. "He'll think I did it."

"No, he won't." Alec rests his hand on Magnus' arm in what he hopes is a reassuring manner. "Jace slipped him an anonymous note. _Don't mess with Gryffindors. We're lions. We bite._ "

Magnus snorts. "That's such a stupid line."

"I know." Alec squeezes Magnus' arm. "But they made sure he knows it wasn't you. There are plenty of people who hate him, that's why nobody helped him. Everyone knows he's an arse. He's a Morgenstern—nobody likes them. People hate his family more than they hate mine."

Magnus shakes his head, and offers Alec a little smile. "You and Jace are good people. People don't think you two are awful. Maybe some people did judge you to start with, before they knew you, because you're Lightwoods, but anybody who hates you for your surname now is an idiot."

Alec stares at Magnus for a moment in sheer surprise, and then he returns his smile, hesitantly. "Thanks. I– Anybody who hates you for anything is an idiot, you know. Especially Morgenstern."

Magnus lets out a little laugh, and then rests his head on Alec's shoulder, briefly, soft hair brushing his neck. Magnus hums, and his eyes close momentarily.

"Thank you, Alexander," he murmurs.

"Nobody calls me that, you know," Alec tells him, looking down at the head of dark hair, but he's still smiling. "Like, nobody at all. Except my parents, when they're annoyed with me. And deign to speak to me."

"I call you that," Magnus replies, easily. "You've got a nice name."

"Oh, and _Alec_ is so horrible?" he asks, but there's a laugh in his voice.

Magnus makes an unamused noise in the back of his throat at Alec's teasing, and glares half-heartedly up at him. "Shove it, Lightwood, I'm claiming it. I'm calling you Alexander. You getting all aerated about it only makes me want to call you that more."

Alec huffs. "Fine. Now get off me, I've got to finish this essay."

"Your shoulder is comfy," Magnus grumbles, but he lifts his head, only to immediately flop down on the desk, arms folding to make a pillow for his face. "I'm tired."

Alec lets out a soft laugh, and rolls his eyes. "You should go to bed, then."

"Mmm. Nuh-uh."

Magnus falls asleep at the table, and Alec wakes him gently when he's finished working, at just after eight o'clock. Magnus protests at being moved as much as is humanly possible, before eventually managing to haul himself up and trudge out of the library after Alec.

"Goodnight, Magnus," Alec says when they reach the corridor that leads down to the Hufflepuff dormitory, trying not to laugh at Magnus' grumpy behaviour.

"Night," Magnus says, and hugs him, warm and tight and fleeting, before letting him go and stumbling away towards the Slytherin common room.

Alec watches him go, shaking his head, and fondness fills his heart.


	11. Speaking In Cursive

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Exams are approaching, and our merry gang of marvellous misfits are on the path to preparation. In the midst of it all, Simon and Jace discuss pranks and Magnus ponders over his friend's offer of summer plans.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> title adapted from a lyric in 'I Only Wanna Talk To You' by The Maine. S'pretty good song, btw...
> 
>  
> 
> To preface. 
> 
> My deepest heartfelt condolences to those affected and/or related to the recent attack in Manchester. It is truly horrible to see such a unifying event tainted by this horrific incident, and my heart goes out to you all. Stay safe.

"I'm just saying, are we _really_ sure it was enough?"

Simon waves his spoon like it's an extention of his arm, therefore somehow supporting his argument. Jace eyes it warily, cautious of getting porridge on his face, or his robes, or anywhere else for that matter. Simon isn't exactly known for having control of his limbs, he's almost as clumsy as Alec in that regard.

"Sebastian is still strutting around like he's King of the First Years, and he's conveniently forgetting that he was embarrassed in front of most of the school."

In the few weeks that had passed, the pranking incidents had seemingly been swept under the rug, with Sebastian brushing off every mention like it's nothing, which is really the opposite of what they wanted.

"At least he's leaving us alone," Jace points out, nodding towards the Slytherin table, where Sebastian is narking along with his so-called 'friends'. A few spaces down, Alec and Magnus are talking, heads bent together with an unusual lack of space between them.

"He hasn't even looked at Magnus since, though that admittedly could be because of Alec speaking up." Jace adds, a proud smile leaking in to the corners of his mouth.

"I just..." Simon frowns, poking his spoon around in his porridge. "It was really, it was so _satisfying_ , to see Sebastian get what he deserves for once..."

"I know,"

"And," Simon shrugs. "I don't know, I just. I had a lot of fun, planning it. With you."

"Don't get all soft on me, Lewis." Jace knocked his shoulder gently. "It's not like we can't be friends if we're not pranking."

"Do we even have anything in common, other than pranking?" Simon asks, sounding unfortunately downtrodden. "We grew up, literally, in different worlds. You know magic, actual magic, and I know how to pull scarves from my sleeve, because of a kit my sister bought me a few birthdays ago. Even that seems stupid compared to actual magic."

Jace takes a moment to think before he answers, taking a thoughtful sip of his milk. "I had fun working on the pranks with you, Simon. I don't think we should stop hanging out because you're a muggle-born. Maybe ... maybe I can teach you about magic? If you're interested? Real, sparks from your wand kind of magic."

Simon's face lights up like a first year at the welcoming feast. "That sounds awesome. And maybe, maybe in the summer holidays we can work something out and you can take me to that wizarding prank shop?"

Jace nods. "Sounds like a plan."

He holds out his hand, and Simon takes it. They shake in a semi-formal gesture, and it feels oddly official, like they're signing a contract of friendship or something.

"I just had a thought," Simon says, once they pull their hands back. "Just because we're not pranking Sebastian, doesn't mean we can't prank at all, right? I mean, there's a whole school waiting to be entertained with our pranking delights. If they're safe and not harming anyone, and we're discreet enough to not get caught, that is..."

Jace wrings his hands together. "I think I've still got some exploding pens leftover ... the ink fades after an hour or so, which means whoever it impacts won't actually get in any lasting trouble."

Simon bounces in his chair, enthusiastically. "Maybe we could plant it on one of the professors?"

"I know I joke about it, but I don't _really_ want detention again." Jace points out. Something about Simon's sunny grin pokes at him, metaphorically, and he finds his resolve breaking.

"Okay." He sighs, a unwitting grin breaking out when Simon actually drops his spoon in his bowl. "We might be able to plant one on Aldertree." Jace allows. "He's the only one I'd even dare trying it with."

They seem to share an almost psychic moment, both thinking about the consequences of trying to prank McGonogall, and both shuddering simultaneously.

"Do you wanna meet up in the library after Charms?" Jace asks. "We can work out a plan of attack ... and maybe do some exam prep because they're coming up."

Simon scrunches up his face. "Ew."

"I know."

 

* * *

 

Magnus can't deny that, with Alec's help, he's been getting marginally better at Charms. It's not one of his best subjects, but he knows enough to pass, and realistically that's what he needs.

That doesn't mean, however, that he has to understand the subject.

" _A tap-dancing pineapple?_ That would have been a sight." He can't imagine what the state of his expression is at the moment. Magic is weird.

"That is a previous exam," Alec reminds him. "This one will probably be completely different."

"Like a tap-dancing banana?" Magnus asks.

Alec laughs, the kind that shakes through his body. Magnus doesn't understand why, it was a serious question - he has no idea what to expect from this exam, from any of them, frankly. But if a previous exam had a blooming tap-dancing fruit, what else is he supposed to expect from this one?

"Are you hoping for a dancing fruit?" Alec asks, once he's calmed down, his hand still wrapped around his stomach.

"I don't really know what to hope for," Magnus replies, poking at Alec with his foot, because he's laughing at Magnus' misfortune and that's not nice.

Even if _he_ laughed at Alec the other day for getting Flobberworm Mucus in his hair - that was different. Alec had green goop dripping down his face, it would have been painful for both of them if he hadn't of laughed.

This is serious. Magnus is having a slight freakout, this is not the time for laughter, it is the time for answers.

"The point of exams is that we're prepared enough to do anything. It shouldn't matter what they want us to do, just that we know how to do it." Alec explains, calmly as always, because he's _not_ freaking out, because he can do Charms and he'll be fine.

"But I'm not prepared!" Magnus drops his head on the table, atop his copy of _The Standard Book of Spells._ He sobs in a half-hearted and somewhat over-dramatic way, his face smushed against the hard cover of the textbook.

Alec pats his back comfortingly, his hand radiating warmth through Magnus' robe. It's a slight comfort, considering exams are still looming before them, but a comfort nonetheless. Then again, Alec just seems to have that effect on him ... now they're friends and don't hate each other. His kindness is palpable, and it helps Magnus momentarily forget that he's existentially doomed.

"I'll help you." Alec promises, slowly removing his hand from Magnus' back.

Magnus turns his head, so that he can actually look at Alec. An intruding thread of hair is impacting his vision, but blowing on it isn't moving it. Magnus is about to give up, accepting defeat and the irritating block to his eyesight, when Alec lifts a cautious hand and brushes the hair aside for him.

"Thanks." Magnus says, a little awed by the act. It was, fond, almost. Something he expects Alec does with his siblings - those he has a close bond with. It's, nice, albeit unexpected.

"It's what friends do, right?" Alec smiles, all soft, upturned edges. "Besides, we both know I'm going to need all the help I can get with Potions." He shudders, his hand closing and opening reflexively. "Knowing my luck, we'll have to make an _Awakening_ Potion, and I'll somehow turn it into a _Draught of the Living Dead_ even though it's purpose is the complete opposite because I'm just _that good_ at Potions."

Magnus shrugs. "At least that will be something worth boasting about in later years."

"If I can even make it to the later years." Alec frowns, rubbing the back of his neck.

"You'll do so well in all of your other classes," Magnus straightens up, and draws a little _A+_ in the margins of Alec's notes parchment, adding a vague cauldron with a cross over it to really drive his point across. "That you can completely flunk Potions and you'll still pass with flying colours."

"I don't think that's how it works." Alec states drily, but he's smiling a little more than last time, and that's good enough in Magnus' books.

"What would I know?" Magnus waves his hand. "I'm a muggle-born, I know nothing."

Alec frowns, the crease in his forehead easing once he realises that Magnus is joking. A few months ago, he wouldn't have, because it wouldn't have been a joke. But now, he's comfortable enough with his muggle side, and his magic side, to joke around in the company of friends who understand that it is, in fact, a joke.

Not in the presence of people who steadfastly refuse to refer to him as anything but 'mudblood', which he loathes now he's aware of it's actual meaning.

Which, reminds him...

"Hey, Alexander?" _I'm so claiming it._

Alec raises an eyebrow.

"I never thanked you," Magnus rubs his thumb over the engraved title of his textbook. "Properly, thanked you, for standing up for me. Against Sebastian." At Alec's confused expression, he adds: "When he called me a mudblood, you stood up for me, and called Sebastian a, uh - prejudiced git, if I recall correctly."

A funny look crosses Alec's face. "Oh, yeah." He smiles, in that small way that has become startingly familiar to Magnus. "I did, didn't I?"

He laughs, a soft sound. Magnus grins, his hand stretching out on his book. "Anyway, this is my way of ... thanking you. I didn't tell you, then, but I really appreciated it. Knowing that I had your support ... that I have it, really means a lot."

Alec ducks his head, a rosy hue dusting his cheeks. "I should have done it, that day at the first flying lesson. I made a mistake, then, not standing up against that slimy ... I won't make the same mistake. No one deserves to be called that, but you, especially, now that I know you, that we're friends, I realise just how wrong I was."

Magnus bumps his shoulder against Alec's, struggling to find the words to respond to such sentiment. "Thank you," He says, after a moment, his voice far too loud in the quiet hush of the library.

He doesn't point out that Alec has apologised before, because it would probably just cause an unecessary discomfort, and he doesn't want to ruin what is an oddly pleasant moment.

Alec looks up, visibly hesitant. Magnus smiles, blinking back the stinging at his eyes that threatens to trail down his cheeks.

"But you don't have to apologise for being _wrong,_ " He adds, once he trusts his voice enough to not break. "It's such a common occurence that I feel a little sorry for you."

Alec frowns, and then the words sink in and he pokes his tongue out childishly. Magnus grins, the air between them easing, tension bleeding until there's nothing but joy passing between them.

"I could have acted better then, myself." Magnus admits, after a moment. "I took your actions to heart, and quickly, and I judged you far too harshly for them. I'm - I'm glad that we've both gotten over it, though. You're a better person than I gave you credit for."

"I don't know what's worse," Alec mumbles, looking at Magnus shyly. "You hating me behind my back, or saying nice things to my face."

Magnus blinks. "I can still say bad things behind your back, if you'd like. I could tell Cat about how you're so smug about Charms, or ... how you're a complete disaster in DADA."

"I _excel_ at Defence Against the Dark Arts, thank you very much." Alec points out. "Sometimes, better than you."

Magnus doesn't say anything, just looks at Alec and waits. It gets to a point that he contemplates actually _spelling_ it out for Alec - in the classic, normal, with words kind-of-spelling, because Alec is taking that long to figure it out.

He does, eventually.

"Oh," He whispers, eloquently.

It's kind of sweet, though Magnus won't admit it. "Yeah."

Alec hums. "Thank you. Really. I think you're right, I think nice things are always better than mean things."

"I've always thought that." Magnus agrees. "It's like, would you rather get coal or presents for Christmas? Obviously, presents. It's just common sense."

Alec gets a foreign cheeky glint in his eyes. "What if you wanted coal for Christmas? Would that be a punishment or a present?"

Magnus stares, his brain working hard enough that he thinks he can actually feel the cogs ticking away. He rubs the bridge of his nose firmly. "I can't believe you're doing this to me, Alec. I thought we were friends."

"We are friends." Alec declares. "That's why I did it. If I can't give you a headache, than who can?"

"You have a funny way of trying to show that you care," Magnus mumbles into the palm of his hand. Alec pats his back sympathetically, moving so that his head is resting on Magnus' shoulder.

"I do care." He says against Magnus' robe.

"I know."

 

* * *

 

After a torturously long day of lessons and spells and flying practice - not that Magnus is getting any better at it - the last thing any of them want to do is more work. Magnus, a firm procrastinator in the subject of exams, decides that any attempt to studying now would only leave with him with a headache, not any more prepared than before.

Alec is with Jace, Emma and Julian for Quidditch practice, which means that Magnus can't turn to them for entertainment - he's fine with watching the games themselves, but training seems a bit tedious in his eyes and he's not sure how much help he'll be. He doesn't know where Simon and his red-head friend, Clary, are, but he imagines they're somewhere together.

And so, here he is, sprawled face-up on the lawns of Hogwarts where a few months ago he'd been discussing the values of mean kids with two people he could then barely count as friends.

Ragnor is sitting cross-legged, his _A History of Magic_ textbook open to the section on blood status, a chapter far too close to Magnus for him to feel comfortable. He knows they could have anything on the test, but he's really hoping for a spread on the Werewolf Code of Conduct or even on the houses than on the history of blood rivalry.

Part of him is glad it's being taught - as Alec had once pointed out to him, there's slightly less chance of there being fights, and worse, if it's being talked about instead of dismissed, if kids are taught early on that it's not right to judge someone on what their lineage is. However, that doesn't mean Magnus has to like having to study it, and right now, he really doesn't.

Catarina's busy staring at a map with co-ordinates of stars and planets, trying to remember the names and general location for their Astronomy exam. Magnus wishes he had the motivation to study, but he doesn't have the same determination that his friends do, and he's too damn tired to bother right now.

The pranks had quietened Sebastian down, but his trademark sneer is haunting, and it's gotten to the point where Magnus can almost sense the boy's presence by the flooding negativity that fills the room.

He's just had enough, and he needs a break with his friends, open and completely unburdened. Not that they seem to be of the same opinion.

"Doesn't that much studying hurt your heads?" He asks, aware it's a mostly rhetorical question considering who's company he is in.

"The permanent fear of failure outweights the temporary desire to relax." Ragnor says, with such a practiced ease it's almost like he's quoting something, though Magnus has never heard it before.

"We can relax once exams are done," Catarina echoes, glancing down at Magnus, who has shifted until his arms are bent, his hands supporting his head. "Aren't you doing things with Alec and Lydia over summer? I would have thought that would be a good motivator."

"There is nothing strong enough to motivate me to work _more_ after an already full day of work." Magnus tilts his head back, his eyelids slipping closed. "I don't know. They sounded like they meant it, and it's not like I don't believe them, it's just ... how can I be sure that's what they'll think once we're out of these walls?"

Catarina makes a sympathetic humming noise, but doesn't otherwise interrupt.

"And besides all of that, even if they do want me to come to their houses by some slim miracle, how am I supposed to get out of the orphanage to do so?"

"Didn't you say that this new girl, April, is better than the woman who worked there last."

Magnus has painful glimpses, eyes that change from onyx to chocolate. The similarity, he's decided, is simply coincidental, because he misses his mother, and it's been a long time since anyone was as kind to him in that blasted orphanage as April is. A parent, no matter how little you knew of them, is not easily forgotten.

He sighs, shifting one hand to rub at his eyes, as though that will erase the flickering image from his mind.

"She's an angel compared to Ms Dixon," Magnus admits. "But I have no clue what her policy on cross-country trips are. We're minors and still under her care, she might refuse to let me leave."

"Or she might give you a free pass, with parental permission from the Branwells." Catarina suggests. "The Lightwoods, I imagine, would be harder to convince, but then again, I wouldn't necessarily put it past Jace to forge a signature. Or Alec, for that matter, he seems very head-strong."

"When he's not painfully timid," Magnus mutters, a little annoyed at the fondness that leaks in, if only for it's unexpectedness. "So, what you're trying to tell me is to not kick a gift horse in the mouth?"

Catarina laughs softly, her hand coming to rest on his knee. "Something like that."

"Why do you think it will turn out so badly?" Ragnor asks. He looks up from his textbook, his green eyes as sharp and piercing as the day they first landed on Magnus on the Hogwarts Express. "Summer is supposed to be fun, a chance to relax and enjoy the fact one's not at school. And yet, I get the feeling you're dreading it."

Magnus curses Ragnor inside the privacy of his mind, wishing that for once Ragnor would have his nose too far stuck into a book to notice what's going on around him, and then just as quickly hating himself for daring such a thought.

"I don't live in the world you do." Magnus explains. "I live in a world where to most people, magic doesn't exist, where it _can't._ I don't know how well it's going to go down if Alec swoops in on a broomstick to whisk me off to his rich London mansion or wherever it is he actually lives, and I don't know how to explain what his _parents_ do for a living because magic _isn't_ a thing."

He sighs, exasperatedly. "I don't approach things with the same mindset you do. I'm an orphan in a foster-care system who found out barely a year ago that what I thought I knew about myself isn't entirely all there is to know. I'm always cautious, always careful, and always prepared for things to head south at any given moment. Of course I'm considering things to turn out badly, because in my experience, most times it does."

He stands up, brushing his robes and any dirt that may have clung to the fabric whilst he was enjoying the cool breeze and vaguely shaped clouds. "If you'll excuse me," He says, his voice distant and a little cold. "I have some studying to do."

If Catarina or Ragnor call out to him, he doesn't hear them over the roar of his mind's internal monlogue.

 

* * *

 

At breakfast the next day, Magnus sits at the Hufflepuff table with Alec and Simon, for they'd already been there when he'd strolled in to the room, and no one else is up yet. That, and Magnus is a little hesitant to talk to Catarina and Ragnor after yesterday's events.

Thankfully for him, he's got Defence Against The Dark Arts first up, which means he's been granted at least two hours before he has to face his mistakes. He knows that he could have handled himself better, but at the time it felt like he'd been backed into a corner, and years of self-preservation taught him that fight is almost always more effective than freeze.

He knows that it's different, that everything about that had been different to what he'd previously experienced, but a reaction so instinctive is hard to quell in the heat of the moment, and he's never been all that good at apologies. Alec, for one, can certainly attest to that.

"You're up awfully early." Alec comments when Magnus slides onto the bench next to him. Simon, sitting across them on the other side, smiles per way of greeting and spreads some orange marmalade onto his toast.

"I didn't get much sleep last night," Magnus admits, running his hand through his disheveled hair. He can practically feel the shadows darkening his eyes, his fatigue leaking into every end of his body.

"Was it Sebastian?" Alec asks, his eyes dark with temper. "I swear to Merlin-"

"No, it wasn't Sebastian." Magnus reassures him, a little awed. "I just had trouble sleeping last night, that's all."

Guilt had been his main constriction - the bed had felt too hard, too small, too uncomfortable, and he'd spent most of the night tossing and turning as opposed to actually sleeping.

"Are you alright?" Alec asks, his arm pressing against Magnus'. He sounds genuinely, believably concerned, and it's infuriating how difficult Magnus finds it to not misconstrue the situation into something it isn't.

"Did you really - when you and Lydia invited me to London, when you invited me to your home, was it just a spur of the moment thing or did you really mean it?" Magnus sighs, rubbing his face with his hand vigorously. "Because, if you didn't mean it, I just need you to tell me. I understand, really, I come from an orphanage, it's probably difficult, you know, logistically, to work it-"

Magnus' voice dies off. Alec is staring at him with eyes as wide as saucers, and he doesn't have to turn to feel that Simon's gaze is fixed on him too. Alec blinks a few times, like he's stunned by Magnus' words.

"Magnus ... you're not, serious, are you?" He asks, sounding hurt by just the idea. Magnus wishes he could take it back, explain himself better because Alec's clearly taking it the wrong way.

Simon coughs awkwardly. Alec's still looking at Magnus, like he's searching for something. Magnus isn't sure how much he's giving away, but it must be something, because Alec's entire posture softens.

"It doesn't matter to me, or anyone else, where you live outside of these walls. The fact that you're home away from Hogwarts is an orphanage isn't of any importance, to anyone-" Alec glances at Simon, who nods vigorously. "It doesn't change who _you_ are as a person. As our - as my friend."

His ears are pink, his mouth pressed together firmly but there's a determined hardness in his eyes.

"You are welcome at my house, any day, any time." Alec's smiles wryly. "If you can handle my family, that is."

"Thank you," Magnus whispers.

It feels very inadequate, for all that Alec has said to him, but it's currently all he has. He's running on limited sleep and barely anything else, and it's really too early in the morning to get into emotional heart-to-hearts on an empty stomach.

Alec smiles, some parts shy and other parts giddy. "Friends, remember?" He glances at Simon, who's acting for the most part as though there is a divide between them and he's not aware of what's happening on the other side.

"I know it seems unlikely sometimes, what with our less than perfect past," Alec huffs a laugh beneath his breath. "But I do want to spend time with you in the summer holidays."

Simon perks up, looking at Alec expectantly. Alec rolls his eyes, but there's a note of fondness to it that warms Magnus' chest. "Yes, Simon, there is a part of me, buried deep down somewhere, that wants to spend time with you. Possibly."

Simon beams as though he's been given the holy grail of responses. Magnus stifles a laugh, reaching for a slice of toast at an expectant rumble in his stomach.

"You're getting all warm and fuzzy on me, Alec." Simon licks a spot of jam off his mouth. "I knew you cared."

Alec turns to Magnus, a devious glint in his eyes. "I certainly want you over at my house more than Simon."

Simon's protesting exclamation is drowned out by Alec and Magnus' combined sniggers. It feels good to laugh, like a weight has been temporarily lifted from Magnus' shoulders. He knows it won't last long, but for the moment, while it is here, he's going to soak it up for all it is worth.

 

* * *

 

"I think you'll be fine." Lydia scribbles an answer on to her practice parchment. "You're just overthinking it."

"Easy for you to say," Alec grumbles, half under his breath, as he crosses out yet another mistake in his Potions equation. There's too many variables, it's making his head spin.

Lydia raises an unimpressed eyebrow. "Why?"

"Because." Alec waves his hand at her. "You're all - you're smart, and you get all of this, and you're probably going to be this generations Hermione Granger or something."

A dusty pink rises on Lydia's cheeks. She ducks her gaze, but Alec can see the smile she's trying to hide. "If I can be half as smart and well-rounded as Hermione Granger, it will be a dream come true."

"I don't think it will be that hard." Alec admits.

It must be the up-coming exam season, that is making everyone so odd and cautious. First Magnus at breakfast, questioning the ... well, the validity of his friendly offer, and now Lydia, questioning her own intelligence. She's proven herself time and time again, as more than just book-smart, too. She's probably the closest thing they have to this generation's Hermione Granger; he knows she's a myth to people their age, an otherworldly ideal that's impossible to reach, but Lydia has the best chance of anyone.

"It would be good for the Slytherin name," Lydia thinks aloud, making a note in the margins of her page. It looks like Herbology, for all that Alec can tell - it's what she was working on last, but knowing her she could have moved on to something else already without him noticing.

"Hard to argue with that." Alec acknowledges.

He kind of wishes Magnus was here, if only for the extra hand with his homework. Magnus hadn't brought up what happened at breakfast since, and Alec doesn't want to breach any invisible barriers, but he's a little worried. Magnus had seemed perfectly fine for the rest of the day, but there was a part of Alec that wondered how much of that was true, and how much of it was Magnus trying to convince others, and himself, that he wasn't being bothered by anything.

It probably is just exam stress, he knows as well as anyone how stress from one thing can transcend into stress for everything. However, that doesn't help his seemingly existential sense of helplessness.

"If you ace your other classes, surely it won't matter that you don't do as well in Potions."

Alec hums, remembering words of a similar sentiment. "It doesn't work like that for my parents." He explains. "Realistically, all I need is to pass and enter into second year. But to them, if I don't do well in Potions, I might as well drop out."

Lydia's eyes widen slowly, her quill falling to the table. "Seriously?"

Alec nods. "Unfortunately, yeah." He shrugs, as though by doing so he can shrug off her comments. "It's not something that's new to me, I'm very familiar with my parents expectations, believe me."

He sounds bitter to his own ears, which is strange, as he usually talks about his parents with an odd sense of acceptance, because he knows better than to believe that they'll change. Something about the life he's found himself with at Hogwarts, the friends he's made, is causing him to approach things a little differently.

At least, in the presence of those friends.

"Have you ever talked about this with them?" Lydia asks.

"There's not much point. One-sided conversations aren't exactly productive, I've discovered." Alec shakes his head, trying to rid himself of the intruding memories. Christmas was months ago, he's over it. Mostly.

"I'm sorry," Lydia reaches out her hand and places it atop his. It's not a move that Alec is necessarily familiar with, but the gentle care that Lydia acts with warms him.

Alec shrugs, in a what-can-you-do kind of manner. "It's not your fault."

"That doesn't mean I'm not sorry." Lydia stands up, glancing at her homework disdainfully and then to Alec with a smile. "Come on, all this work is giving me a headache, and I can see how enthusiastic you are."

Alec scoffs beneath his breath, aware of the steady thrum at his temples.

"Take me on a tour of the Hufflepuff common room." Lydia scoops up her books, smiling mischeviously at him. "Before I suddenly decide to cast _Incendio_ on my textbooks in a childish fit of rage."

"Why are you so interested in the Hufflepuff common room?" Alec asks, tidying up his own belongings. "It's not that interesting. There's a lot of couches."

"It's near the kitchens," Lydia points out with a smirk. "And I'm feeling a tad peckish."

Alec nods, understanding the root of her request. "I see."

"I am but a witch," Lydia states. "Human, for the most part."

"I'll see what I can do," Alec juggles his books in his arms. "But the house elves aren't always generous, Jace once ended up with a face covered in cauldron cake because he repeatedly asked for some leftovers - I think his problem was with the wording of 'scraps' ... didn't end well."

"Surely they have a soft spot for you," Lydia smiles. "I can't imagine you asking them for much, or in any nasty kind of way."

"House elves deserve to be treated with as much respect as other magical folk." Alec states. "Just because I grew up with them working for my parents, doesn't mean they don't deserve respect."

Lydia inclines her head. "You make a good argument, Alec Lightwood." She pushes in her chair, soundlessly. "Maybe they'll have some broken tarts or something," She says, hopeful. "If not, I can just camp out in the common room until dinner. Play some Exploding Snap or something."

"Is there a reason you don't want to be anywhere near other Slytherins?" Alec asks.

"Nope."

Alec stares at her, noting the press of her lips, the avoiding gaze.

"Okay," Lydia admits. "I might have heard wind that Simon and Jace are planning on planting something on Sebastian, and I really don't want to be around to deal with that."

"That's fair." Alec allows. "I'll show you the best the Hufflepuff common room has to offer. Such as the _really_ comfortable spot near the fireplace."

Lydia nods at him. "Sounds like a plan I can get behind, Lightwood."

 

* * *

 

Cheers errupt and echo around the walls of the Great Hall the night after exams are finished. From the first years who never had to complete such tests before, to the fifth years who appear ready to skip dinner and head straight to bed, the atmosphere in the room is palpablable and electric.

Which could just be the leaking energy dripping from each exhausted soul, or it could be their magic mingling together in the tight space, packed together close enough to merge like streams.

Magnus is a little more interested in the platter of Cornish pastries and Yorkshire puddings sitting right in front of him in the middle of the Gryffindor table, than anything else. The way they treat meal times as a group is like musical tables, though their collective presence at the Slytherin table is less frequent than at others.

"Are you drooling?" Lily asks, her dark eyes narrowed suspiciously. "Please tell me you're not actually drooling at the sight of Yorkshire puddings?"

"A luxury, in my experience. And one I very much enjoy." Magnus stares her down as he reaches for a pudding portion. "And I was not drooling."

Lily rolls her eyes, but it's such a common reaction by this point it's hardly worth noting. Magnus cuts happily into his food, the process satisfying - it tastes better, as odd as it sounds, now that he can relax and actually savour it.

"Is anyone else a little freaked about their results?" Simon asks. His hair is a little frazzled and his glasses askew on his nose, and truthfully he looks like he's been in a boxing match with a goblin and lost.

"What's the point?" Jace shrugs, looking none too bothered about his own results. Magnus wonders if there's such thing as, like, a Quidditch scholarship to take Jace through to his seventh year.

"I hate to boost Jace's ego," Alec adds, quietly, like he's reserved about jumping in to the conversation. "But he kind of has a point. We've already done the exams, for the moment at least, there isn't much we can do about it."

"Exactly." Jace points out, actually points, with his roast-potato-topped-fork. "See, you just need to relax Si, let it go. What's done is done, and all that."

Alec rolls his eyes fondly. "Whatever you decide, Simon, please just promise me one thing-"

Simon blinks. "What?"

"Don't follow Jace's advice. It never ends well."

Magnus sniggers, covering his mouth as stifling the laughter is a little hard when all he can see is Alec's smug expression and Jace's affronted one. Simon raises a hand, sharing a high-five with Alec across the table. Jace stares between them suspiciously, like he's surprised by their friendship. Not only are they in the same house, but they bunk in the same room, barely a few feet apart - what does Jace expect?

"Let's stop talking about exams," Magnus declares, once the laughter has quieted down and Jace's hurt-puppy expression is mostly gone. "They're over, and I for one am more than happy to forget them as soon as possible."

Lily nods at him. "Amen to that." She raises her glass of juice in a mock-toast. "To the end of torturous classes, and to the End-of-Term-Feast, which I for one am looking forward too."

"God, you magic-folk do seem to like your feasts, don't you?" Magnus comments, lifting his own glass.

Slowly, everyone else raises their own respective cups, muttering toasts of their own, to the summer holidays, to second year, to going a few weeks without Sebastian's mug hanging around. They clink in synchronised toasts, a sense of calm warmth settling around them.

"To whatever happens next." Alec declares, his eyes flickering to Magnus'. "However surprising it might be."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And that, my lovelies, is that! 
> 
> Jk - there is another chapter, but alas, it is not mine. I'm afraid I must love and leave - until second year, of course, where the story will continue. We're in this for the long run, promise. <3
> 
> (I must admit, I'm a little sad that this is my last chapter, but I will be back, and soon! This story gives me so much joy and is so fun to write, it feels a little odd to be done, though temporarily. I couldn't imagine stopping anytime soon.)
> 
> Enjoy your day, and weeks, and the next chapter - I for one, cannot gush over it enough. A beautifully fitting end to this year. Thank you for all of your support - the comments, the kudos, the general love. It's a blast to share this with you all. :D 
> 
> Until next time!


	12. Promises (Make Friendships)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which exam results are released, they all ride on the Hogwarts Express, and Magnus and Alec make a promise.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'd just like to take this opportunity to mention the London attack a few days ago. I am a Londoner, and this is the second attack on my city, mere miles from my home on a bridge I use frequently, and the third attack on my country, in a mere handful of weeks. I don't want to get into politics here, but my thoughts are, as ever, with the friends and families of those affected.
> 
> Our police forces, our paramedics, and our doctors and nurses should be praised and blessed and worshipped for their incredible responses, and, frankly, our politicians should take a leaf out of their books. I'm devastated, and I'm utterly furious, and this cannot be allowed to continue.

  
The final few days of term dawn early, in a flurry of anxious and excitable activity from the students, with seventh years reminiscing loudly in the hallways as they partake in their last hours at Hogwarts and everyone else in the castle simultaneously worrying about their exams and chattering about their upcoming summer plans.

When Alec awakes to a sheet of thick, carefully folded paper lying next to his bed, dread coils in his stomach. He sits up sharply, reaching out to rip open his exam results. Part of him is ready to commit himself to a life of misery and endless taunts from his parents about his utter lack of comprehension in Potions.

He scans down the list of grades, lips quirking at the top grades he's managed to snag in Defence Against the Dark Arts, Transfiguration, Charms, and Herbology, and then—

Oh. Huh.

Alright, he didn't get the top grade in Potions, but he's actually... He's done okay. He passed. He more than passed. It's a decent grade. It's nothing to be ashamed of.

He's fairly sure he has exactly one person to thank for that, and it's with anticipation curling in his stomach and a grin forming on his face that he gets dressed hurriedly, shoves his wand and grade paper in the pocket of his robes, and dashes out of the dormitory and downstairs to the Great Hall before anybody else has so much as stirred.

When he gets to the entrance to the Great Hall, he curses the fact that he's shorter than most people in the school. He's not short for his age, but he's eleven; he can't see over the heads of seventeen year olds.

He cranes his neck, standing up on tiptoes as a group of half-awake Gryffindors shuffle in with a genuinely depressing lack of enthusiasm. He can't see over to the top of the Slytherin table, but Magnus doesn't look like he's on the lower end, and he can't see Jace and Clary at the Gryffindor table, and—

Someone barrels into him from behind, making him stumble as arms are thrown carelessly around his shoulders. An unmistakeable laugh sounds in his right ear, and hair brushes his neck, and bronze fingers are waving a piece of parchment in his face.

"Magnus, what the hell?" Alec demands, trying to sound indignant even as he's laughing, Magnus' tangible joy as infectious as it is comforting. He turns round to look at the Slytherin boy as he lets go of Alec, and can't help but smile when he sees the size of the grin Magnus is sporting.

"Alexander, look." Magnus points to the grade next to Charms—which mirrors Alec's mark in Potions.

Alec's smile widens, turning lopsided and carefree, and he knocks his shoulder against Magnus'. "I told you you could do it! That's great!"

"Ditto," Magnus says, eyes scanning over Alec's grades, which—

"Hey!" Alec frowns, affronted, because he's fairly certain that he'd had that tucked in his robes. "Did you just pick-pocket me?"

"Hm? I'm sorry, Lightwood, I can't hear you over the sound of our combined genius." He pulls a face, and does a poor imitation of Alec's voice. " _Oh, I can't do Potions, it's so confusing, I'm a hopeless case and my parents are going to disown me, I_ —"

Alec reaches across and snatches his grade paper out of Magnus' hand, and smacks his arm lightly, a scowl on his face. "Alright, alright. We get it. You should take the credit, you're the only reason I passed."

Magnus scoffs at him as they finally make it through the crowds into the Hall. Catarina and Ragnor are already seated at the Ravenclaw table, so they head over to sit with them. "That's rubbish. You're smart, Alec. I didn't do your exam for you, just like you didn't do my Charms exam for me."

Alec rolls his eyes. "Of course I didn't do your Charms exam for you."

"Well, exactly. If I get the credit for my own achievements, so should you."

"It's different," Alec says.

Magnus looks utterly exasperated, and he falls into the seat beside Catarina with unnecessary drama. Although, Alec thinks, Magnus does lots of things with a rather high level of drama, so it's not exactly out of the ordinary.

"Cat," he says, "tell Alec to take credit for his own exam results."

Catarina raises her eyebrows, and turns to look at Alec in confusion. "Why wouldn't you?"

"It's not—" Alec kicks Magnus lightly under the table when he starts mimicking Alec trying to defend himself, even as he laughs. "I was just saying that Magnus helped me with Potions a lot. I was trying to be grateful."

He glares at Magnus pointedly. Magnus shrugs, smiling, and takes a bite of toast.

"You're welcome, Alexander."

***

The end of term feast, Magnus decides, is a blessing in practically every way. The Hall is filled with the chatter of several hundred ecstatic students, eagerly anticipating the start of the summer holidays. Teachers sit up behind the headmistress' dais, smiling and clinking glasses, and even Sebastian has ceased his ever-present snark to stuff his face with food along with the rest of them.

It's wonderful, and it's beautiful, and Magnus is filled with the warmth of food, cheeks aching from how much he's laughing and smiling, exchanging quips and conversation with Lily and Lydia.

It's perfect, in every way except one.

Because the end of term feast, much like the feast at the very start of term, seems to be one of the only times in the year in which the house tables are strictly enforced. Which means he can't share the moment with his other friends—with Alexander, with Catarina and Ragnor, even with Jace and Clary and Simon.

He glances over at the Hufflepuff table while Lily and Lydia debate what pancakes are supposed to be eaten with, and sees Alexander snickering at something Simon says, along with a Hufflepuff girl in their year.

After a moment, Alec lifts his gaze up, beyond Simon to the Slytherin table, and catches Magnus' eye as though he could feel the other boy's gaze on him. He smiles, widely, and Magnus finds himself grinning back. He wants to go over there and talk to him. He wants to make a comment to Alec about Sebastian's sudden good behaviour, he wants to discuss their potential summer plans, he wants to snark about anything and everything and watch Alec roll his eyes.

But, he supposes, that will have to wait until after McGonagall's end of term speech. He's not sure whether they'll get to talk, tonight, but he's certainly going to seek Alec and the rest of his friends out on the train tomorrow morning.

They're all called to attention by a sharp rap of McGonagall's spoon against her glass, and Magnus breaks his gaze away from Alec's, letting his grin soften and slowly bleed off his face to be replaced with a relaxed, contented expression.

"I would like, firstly, to congratulate you all on another spectacular year," she says, standing tall behind the golden podium, formed from the wings of an owl. Magnus has a momentary recollection of seeing a portrait of Hogwarts' late headmaster standing behind it with a long, silvery beard, before he's tugged back out of his thoughts.

"To our new students, I trust you have acclimatised yourselves to our school, and found your friends and your families, within your houses, and your year, and the wider school. Families, after all, are made up of more than merely those physically nearest to us."

She scans across the room, and Magnus looks over at all the friends he has scattered across the house tables. His heart warms a little. She's right. He's found friends here that mean more to him than anybody has meant to him in—

Well. He's not sure he's ever cared about anyone so much. His mother, of course, but he doesn't really remember her. He didn't know her. Not like he knows his friends. And he's sure he's barely scratched the surface of what makes up their wholes now, let alone how much they'll all develop by the time they leave Hogwarts, but it doesn't matter.

He has made friends here. Far more than he ever thought he'd have, but, more importantly than quantity, they're better friends than he ever anticipated having. They're friends that could become his family so very easily. Family is just an extension of friendship, after all. A closer, deeper bond—but one that lays its foundations on the companionship and trust and care that is friendship.

"To our seventh years, we wish you the very best," McGonagall continues, and she smiles at the Head Boy and Head Girl, sitting at the front of their respective house tables. "And I, personally, thank you for everything you have given our school in your time here."

She pauses in her speech, taking the time to land her gaze, piercing and serious but undoubtedly warm, on the groups of seventh years scattered across the hall. There's a hush among the students, all waiting for her next words; the amount of respect for the witch leading their school is tangible.

"Now, as I'm sure you're all waiting for, the results of the house cup."

A grin tweaks at the corner of her lips. Magnus has heard that, while she is, of course, officially impartial, she still harbours a distinct fondness for Gryffindor after serving as their head of house for decades, before being appointed Headmistress.

There's a hum of disappointment among the Gryffindors, as they finish fourth by a narrow margin, behind Slytherin, a mere twenty points ahead. Magnus pouts over at Lily and Lydia, but, to be entirely truthful, he's barely thought about the House Cup all year. He's been much more focused on other things. Like the fact that actual, literal magic exists, and that he has it.

"And, owing largely to their spectacularly enormous Quidditch win, in first place, two hundred and thirty five points ahead of the runners up, Ravenclaw!"

Cheers erupt from the Ravenclaw table, students throwing hats and wands and quills into the air in celebration. He can see Catarina grinning, and even Ragnor is smiling, although he hasn't actually made any physical move to celebrate their victory, other than to lean across the table and say something to Catarina above the building ruckus.

Professor McGonagall concludes her speech fairly swiftly, wishing them a pleasant summer, and then bids them goodnight. Immediately upon her dismissal, students are on their feet, dashing across the hall to get to their friends, laughing and joking and calling across the tables.

"Shall we head to bed?" Lydia asks, as they too, stand, and begin to move with the crowd.

Magnus glances over at where he can see Alec being enveloped in a broad, jubilant hug by his brother, Clary and Simon slinging their arms around each other and Catarina and Ragnor already almost out of the hall, far ahead of the crowd, and he nods. He'll have to wait until tomorrow.

"Yeah," he says. "Let's go."

***

"You're such an idiot!" Alec is insisting, on the Hogwarts Express the following morning. Magnus tries not to snigger at Jace's look of indignant outrage, smothering his mirth by biting off the head of his chocolate frog.

"I am not!" Jace exclaims. "Just because I said—"

"You literally just said that you're still going to be a better Quidditch player than Harry Potter, when clearly—"

"I can still be better if I get picked next year! And besides, he was a seeker, a beater is a completely different position. I mean sure, I thought I was going to be a seeker, but Emma says I'm way better suited to being a beater. They're not comparable!"

Alec makes a heated retort, leaning forward a little in his seat beside Magnus to emphasis his point, and Magnus exchanges a look of despair with Clary.

Leaving Hogwarts, he thinks, was hard enough at Christmas, and at Easter, when he'd known it would only be for a mere couple of weeks. This time, seeing the imposing view of the castle he calls home bathed in sunlight, disappearing beyond the rolling hills of the English countryside, has stamped a distinct feeling of misery onto his heart.

Lydia and Lily had managed to lift his spirits a little, reminding him that, providing he could get permission to leave, he could see his friends at least once during the holidays.

It still doesn't feel like enough. What, one day, out of an entire six week holiday? One day out of an entire month and a half? He should be grateful, he knows, but he's been able to rely on his friends for the last ten months, and now he's going to be thrust back into the orphanage with kids who either despise him, or who are fairly apathetic to his existence and wellbeing.

Not like his friends at Hogwarts. His friends at school care. And god, he's going to miss them so much.

Someone nudges his elbow, and he snaps out of his staring to see Alec shaking a box of Bertie Bott's Every Flavour Beans at him. "Bean?"

"Thanks," Magnus says, reaching in to take a dotted red sweet. He's relieved when it's only strawberry, and chews on it quietly for a few moments as his friends chatter and bicker around him.

"You're brooding again, Magnus," Ragnor says, not so much as looking up from his book. "We do have owls, you know. You can write to us. We'll write back."

"It's not the same as actually seeing you," Magnus replies, trying not to sound too depressed. He's not sure he's fooling Ragnor: he gets a pointed, deadpan look over the top of Ragnor's book, complete with the unimpressed eyebrow-raise.

"Of course you're gonna see us," Jace says, his debate with Alec apparently over. "This one–" He nudges his brother "–is gonna drive everyone crazy if he doesn't see you."

Alec flushes and rolls his eyes, but he nods anyway. "I meant it, Magnus. We all meant it."

"I especially meant the bit about London," Lily pipes up. "Come to a farm instead!"

"No, no." Lydia grins at her. "No, you're invited to London, Lily. We're going to convert you, Alec and Cat and I."

Lily looks utterly horrified at the suggestion, and even Magnus has to laugh as she mutters under her breath about the woes and crimes of the big city.

"But seriously," Alec says, a moment later while the rest of the carriage has fallen into speculation about the trolley lady's age and species ("Because she's way too old to be just a witch"), "you're going to survive six weeks. You know that, right? And Ragnor's right, we'll write to you. Or, well, Jace won't, but I will."

"I know," Magnus says, leaning his head on Alec's shoulder for comfort. "Hey, you know what I'm looking forward to next year?"

Alec peers down at him. "Not being the youngest in the school anymore?"

"That," Magnus acknowledges, "but also, I'll get to meet your sister next year. Isabelle?"

"You remember?"

Magnus turns his head so he can look up at Alec, chin digging lightly into his friend's shoulder, and gives him a milder version of the look he'd received from Ragnor, earlier. "Of course I remember, Alexander. You only talk about your siblings all the time."

Alec chews on his lower lip self-consciously, pink staining his cheeks. "Do I? I'm sorry."

"No." Magnus smiles at him. "No, don't apologise. It's sweet, that you love them so much. I wish I had siblings I had that kind of relationship with."

"Well, you heard what Professor McGonagall said. You can find family at Hogwarts."

Lily drops into their conversation shamelessly. "I'll annoy you enough to be your pseudo sister," she assures him. "And Ragnor can be your grumpy brother."

Magnus smiles a little, and settles his head back on Alec's shoulder. "Yeah," he says, quietly, and Alec wraps an arm around him, squeezing lightly. He exhales. "Yeah, you're right."

***

When the train pulls into the platform, the first thing Alec notices is the sheer number of parents lining the platform. The second thing he notices is that his own parents are standing at the back of the crowd, quiet and stony-faced where the other parents are tearfully excited to see their children home, and—

"Hey, Magnus!" He taps the other boy's arm, grinning, and points out the window where he can see his sister standing by their parents, craning her neck in an attempt to see over the people around her. "You know you wanted to meet my sister? She's here now."

"Oh?" Magnus perks up visibly, from where he'd been slumped miserably in his seat, unresponsive to any manner of probing and joking. "Is your little brother here, too?"

"I didn't see him," Alec says. "He's probably at home with Hodge."

The train slows to a stop, and there's a rush of students heading for the doors, eager to get out and begin their summer holidays as soon as they possibly can. Alec hauls his trunk out behind Jace, stepping carefully down from the train onto the platform, until—

Alec makes a strangled noise as Sebastian collides with him, a smirk on his revolting, slimy face, and he trips down onto the platform, trunk toppling after him.

"Woah."

A tanned hand catches his case and his shoulder simultaneously, steadying him and preventing his luggage falling over and crashing in everyone's way. Sea-blue eyes peer down at him, and Alec finds himself looking up at Julian Blackthorn, who towers over everyone nearby—including Sebastian, who Alec can see making a hasty retreat under Julian's mild glare.

"Alright?" Julian asks, withdrawing his hand and passing Alec back his trunk.

"Yeah." Alec clears his throat, embarrassment gripping at him. "Yeah, I'm good. Thank you."

"He's an arse," Julian says, rolling his eyes. "The Morgensterns all are. His cousin was in his fifth year when I was your age. Complete prat who thought the world of himself. They're all the same breed of pureblood snob. Sebastian's no exception."

"Alec!"

Magnus appears behind him without warning. He looks anxious, concerned, and, really, all Sebastian did was bash into him, does it really warrant this much fuss? He's fine. He's just so embarrassed that all the blood in his body seems to have rushed to his face.

"Are you okay?" Magnus asks. There's anger in his eyes, beyond the concern, and Alec is oddly touched, even if he thinks it's all a bit of an overreaction. "That stupid—"

"I'll head off, now," Julian says, with a smile. "Have a lovely summer, Alec. And I want you on my Quidditch team next year, so get some practise in."

Alec, if possible, flushes a deeper shade of crimson. "Y-Yeah. Okay. Thank you. And you too."

Julian shoots them both one last smile, then turns with his own trunk and heads off into the crowd.

"Well." Magnus is holding his trunk in one hand and his owl cage in the other. "I suppose we—"

"Oh, no." Alec shakes his head vehemently, and grabs Magnus' hand. "No, you're meeting my sister and we're talking to the Branwells about the summer before you even think about saying goodbye."

Magnus' hand is warm against his, and he catches Magnus' grin out of the corner of his eye as he drags him through the crowd, to where he can see Lydia and her mother.

"Alec!" she calls, and waves at them.

Lydia's mother glances at them upon their approach. She's a tall, slender woman dressed in crisp white jeans and an elegant beige blouse, jewellery adorning her neck and ears. There's a silver wedding band on her finger, which she's fiddling with as Alec and Magnus reach them.

"Who's this?" she asks her daughter, a reserved, but not insincere, smile on her face.

"Mum, this is Alec and Magnus," Lydia says, gesturing to them both.

"It's lovely to meet you, Mrs Branwell," Alec says, while Magnus stands by his side, clearly a little out of his comfort zone, but he nods his agreement.

"And you," she says.

"I wanted to ask," Lydia says, "whether Alec and Magnus could come and stay, this summer. And Lily. And maybe—"

"Ask the whole school, while you're at it," Mrs Branwell says with a laugh, but there's warmth in her expression. "I don't see why not, darling. Of course, we'll have to agree it with Alec and Magnus' parents, but—"

"Ah, that's the thing." Lydia looks at Magnus uncertainly. He shrugs, and nods, clearly inviting her to explain the situation to her mother. "Magnus doesn't actually– He lives in an orphanage, when he's not at school."

"Oh." Mrs Branwell looks momentarily surprised, an expression that's quickly followed by one of empathetic sorrow. "A muggle orphanage?" she asks, not unkindly.

"Yes, Mrs Branwell," Magnus says, shifting in place in what Alec thinks is mild discomfort.

Her expression clears, softening a little, and she smiles at Magnus. "Well, I'm sure we'll manage to sort something out. We can send you an owl."

"Thank you," Magnus says, earnestly. "That's very kind of you."

Mrs Branwell shoots them another smile, and then says, "Come on, Lydia. Say goodbye, and let's go."

Alec finds himself being tugged into a hug that's tight but lasts for a mere moment, before he's released, and Magnus is given the same treatment.

Lydia grins at them both. "I'll see you soon. Write to me!"

Alec and Magnus both promise that they will, and Lydia disappears off the platform with her mother, giving them one last wave over her shoulder before they walk through the barrier and out into the muggle world.

Alec glances over at Magnus, who's got a faint smile on his lips, warmth in his eyes. Considering how miserable he'd seemed on the train, earlier, he seems a lot more cheerful now. Alec's glad; he doesn't want to head off for his summer break with the image of Magnus sad and brooding branded into his brain.

"Hey." Alec gestures behind himself to where his parents and sister are standing, keeping to themselves, staying well away from the other parents—particularly the muggle parents. "Fancy meeting Izzy? Don't feel obliged, but she looks bored out of her mind. She likes meeting new people. And I have a feeling you two will get along well."

Magnus' eyes flicker through the crowd towards where Alec had pointed, until they fix over Alec's shoulder, and immediately go wide. "Is that your mum?"

Alec follows Magnus' gaze, and frowns. "Yeah. Why?"

Magnus chokes out a laugh. "Alec, she's wearing more money in one outfit than all my possessions are worth. Including my bed. And my bed isn't technically mine."

He pulls a face, because his mother is wearing a deep blue dress and a light scarf—can it really be that expensive?

Magnus shakes his head, but he seems to have recovered himself, because he says, "I'd love to meet your sister, Alexander."

Alec can't stop the grin stretching across his face. His lips turn up, and he grabs Magnus' arm with his free hand to tug him through the crowds of people, towards his family.

Typically, Isabelle is the first to notice their approach. Her eyes light up when she spots Alec dragging Magnus and his luggage towards them, and she straightens out of her slight slump, a smile breaking across her face.

"Alec!" she cries, and rushes forward to throw herself at him, arms around his shoulders. She has to stand on her toes to reach. "You're back!"

He hugs her back, letting go of both Magnus and his suitcase in order to do so, and smiles against her hair. "Hey, Iz. Where's Jace? Not here yet?"

"No." Isabelle pulls back, shaking her head, and drops back down, feet flat on the floor. "He's over there, saying goodbye to someone. I think it must be Clary. She's got red hair."

"That's Clary," Alec confirms. He turns a little, stepping slightly to one side so that he's no longer blocking his sister's view of Magnus. "And this is Magnus."

Magnus smiles at her, a little shyly, but Isabelle breaks into a grin so wide Alec's convinced it's going to split her face. She seems to be vibrating with energy.

"Hi!" she says, moving forwards. "I'm Isabelle, although I suppose this idiot has already told you that."

"He has," Magnus says, seeming to relax a little at Isabelle's words—or perhaps merely the open, friendly tone of her voice. There's something about Isabelle that tends to make people feel comfortable, when she likes them, although she's more than capable of making people squirm. "Alec talks about you a lot, so it's nice to finally meet you."

Isabelle laughs, and shoots Alec a smug smirk. "Back at you. Alec mentions you in precisely every letter he ever sends me."

Magnus glances over at Alec and raises his eyebrows, a smile curling at one corner of his mouth. A flush covers Alec's cheeks, and he rolls his eyes. Maybe introducing Magnus and Isabelle was a bad idea. Already, he can tell that they're going to be a force to be reckoned with, and they've only been acquainted for two minutes.

Magnus and Isabelle end up chatting for another several minutes, about Hogwarts and about chocolate frog cards and then sharing little anecdotes at Alec's expense. And, while Alec is ecstatic that Isabelle and Magnus are getting along even better than he'd hoped, he would love to stop blushing, at some point. He's fairly sure he's crossed the limit of how much blood it's unhealthy to have in his face.

Their conversation is cut abruptly short when the long fingers of Maryse Lightwood rest on Isabelle's shoulder. The smiles drop off all their faces, and they glance up at Alec's parents, who are accompanied by a reluctant-looking Jace.

"I hope rounding you up at the end of term isn't going to become a habit," Maryse says, crisply. "We came here to welcome you home, not to stand amongst all the muggles watching you continue your social lives."

Isabelle and Jace roll their eyes in synch. Alec averts his gaze. He can feel Magnus beside him, stiff and tense, every line of his body taut, discomfort rolling off him in waves. He'd like to be able to reassure him—but he can't. Because the reassurance would be a lie.

"Sorry," he says to his mother, instead. "We were just...saying goodbye. Before summer."

"You have owls, I'm sure you'll manage," Robert says, and drops his hand on Isabelle's other shoulder. Isabelle cringes, and shoots Alec a desperate look. "We always did. Now let's go, come on."

"I think we'll just send Hodge next time," Maryse says, beginning to turn. "Coming to greet you here was clearly a pointless exercise."

Alec's parents steer Isabelle around, and begin to shepherd Jace up the platform to the barrier. They're clearly expecting Alec to follow without question, because he normally does, but Alec's rooted to the spot. He can't believe how blatantly his parents had just ignored Magnus. They both acted like he wasn't even there. They didn't even dignify him with a look of their usual disapproval.

He's astonished, incredulous, but more than that, he's angry. Magnus is his friend, and they haven't even known each other for a full year yet, but already, Magnus has been more supportive and more caring and more interested than his parents ever have been.

"I think you'd better go," Magnus says, pulling Alec from his internal thoughts of indignation. "Your parents don't seem...happy."

"They're never happy," Alec says, rolling his eyes. "I hope they do send Hodge next time. He's a hell of a lot nicer. He might actually treat you like a human being rather than a dust mite."

Magnus' lips quirk up. "It's alright. I've been treated like worse things."

Alec turns his head to look at him, and narrows his eyes a little. "Well, you shouldn't have been. And just because you have doesn't mean it's okay."

"I'm going to miss you over the summer," Magnus says, smile softening into something more genuine, less bitter. "Promise you'll write to me?"

"I promise," Alec says. He's got the address of Magnus' orphanage scribbled on a piece of paper in the bottom of his trunk, and the first thing he plans on doing tonight, after he's suffered through an entire evening of his parents' attempts at civility, is writing to his friends.

"You know, if you wizards were a bit less technologically stunted, you could phone me," Magnus says, with a teasing grin. "Or Skype me."

"What the hell is Skype?" Alec asks, wrinkling his nose.

"It's a video-calling app," Magnus says. "And I'm telling Clary and Simon about that. I bet even Ragnor knows what Skype is."

"Alec!" Maryse's voice cuts through the air sharply. "Hurry up!"

"Okay," Alec admits, with a wry smile. "I think I have to go."

"Goodbye, then," Magnus says, and although he's smiling back, there's a little bit of sadness in his eyes. "I've got another train to catch. Back to Manchester I go."

Alec tilts his head to the side to a little, a thought hitting him. "Hey, Magnus, why don't you have an accent?"

Magnus raises his eyebrows. "I'm sorry?"

"Well, you're from Manchester, but you've got a London accent. Well. It is a bit Manchester, when you say certain things. But it's not very strong."

Magnus lets out a little laugh, and the sadness dissipates from his eyes. "My mother developed a London accent, when she came to England. I don't know why, because I'm fairly sure we didn't live in London. But I suppose when I learnt to talk, I heard London."

"Posh London," Alec says, grinning. "Not rough London."

Magnus scoffs. "You can talk."

"Alec Lightwood!" Maryse barks. "We don't have time for your dallying! Hurry up!"

"Goodbye, Magnus," Alec says, pulling Magnus in for a hug.

Magnus hugs him back tightly, and they hang on for a beat longer than they usually would. Magnus gives good hugs, Alec thinks, closing his eyes for just a moment, because he's not going to see his friend for weeks, even if they do get Magnus down to London at some point, and he's going to miss Magnus, too.

"Goodbye, Alexander." Magnus pulls back, and smiles. "I'll see you soon."

Not soon enough, Alec thinks, but he merely says, "Yeah. Soon."

There's a beat, and then Magnus gives him a little wave, and turns, heading off in the opposite direction.

When Alec catches up with his parents, his mother is glaring, and his father is looking irritably at his watch, and Isabelle has her eyebrows raised, a grin on her lips. Probably because he just disobeyed their parents so blatantly.

"Honestly," Maryse says. "You and Jace, acting like you're not going to see your friends for years."

"It _is_ six weeks," Isabelle says, but Maryse ignores her in favour of taking the opportunity to interrogate Alec.

"Who was that, exactly?" she demands. "That boy? He was carrying a Slytherin scarf."

"That was Magnus," Alec tells her. "And yeah, he's in Slytherin. Does it matter?"

Maryse purses her lips. "And a muggle-born, I'm assuming. Are all your and Jace's friends muggle-born?"

Jace rolls his eyes.

"No," Alec says, "but would it matter if they were?"

"You could do with befriending someone a little more respectable," Maryse says. "You never know, you might want contacts, one day, people who can help you to get up to high places, and you're not going to find those from some muggle."

"I don't care what Magnus' parentage is," Alec says, firmly. "He's my friend. He's my best friend. That's all that matters."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I'm afraid this chapter wraps up our first year. But never fear! We've got six more to go, and we're absolutely committed to this, so we're certainly in it for the long run -- barring any actual, literal disasters ;) 
> 
> I think we're looking at a couple of months, ish, before we post second year, but that's a very rough estimate.
> 
> Anyway, one last time for this year, I hope you enjoyed this chapter, and much love to you all, and especially to my fabulous co-author, who never fails to make me smile :D


End file.
